Cowgirl Strong

by Jenny Hammerle

  “That’s weird. School had been out for a long time at that point. I wonder where she’d come from.”

  “Well that’s the weird part. The only teacher over there was Mr. Richardson. I nearly bumped into him coming down the hall.”

  “You mean Mr. Creepy?” Michael teased. “Come on, Rachael. It’s no secret among the guys how he puts the hot chicks with short skirts in the first two rows. Who could blame him, right?”

  “I got a bad vibe off of him, like he was the reason Samantha was crying.” Rachael confided.

  “I hope you’re wrong.” Maysie interjected. “I’ve had him for a couple of classes, never had an issue with him.”

  “I hope I’m wrong, too.”

  Maysie dropped them at home and drove away. Hank and Spike ran up to greet them. Hank had warmed to them over the last few weeks and Rachael no longer lived in fear he’d take her right arm off every time she stepped outside her own home. Michael walked around the back of the house to fill the dogs’ water bucket.

  Rachael went inside to start her homework and work on some sort of plan for dinner. She looked in the freezer and located a bag of frozen chicken breasts. She pulled it out and set it on the counter. She procured a thirteen by nine glass baking dish from under the counter. She laid the chicken breasts in it. Next she found an unopened bottle of barbeque sauce, opened it and spread it over the frozen chicken. She opened the oven and set the auto oven to three hundred fifty degrees and sixty minutes.

  Dinner made easy.

  Rachael grabbed a can of candied yams and put them in a small casserole dish. She sprinkled them with sugar and cinnamon. She melted half a stick of butter in the microwave and poured it over the top. She set it in the oven as well.

  Tonight was Aunt Margaret and her mother’s late shift at the resort. They wouldn’t be home for several hours. Rachael liked to have dinner made early and all of her homework done.

  She peeked out the window overlooking the backyard where Michael played with the dogs. While they were full grown, they still behaved more like a couple of puppies. They loped across the yard, fetching sticks, and rolling. Michael ran from them calling ‘puppy, puppy’.

  Rachael walked to the dining room and got out her own homework. She didn’t have all that much to do. Math evens, a page of vocab, and some Spanish reading that could better be described as translating. Rachael worked diligently, until she realized she could no longer hear Michael in the back yard. She walked to the back porch and opened the French doors. She looked across the lawn. There was no sign of him or the dogs.

  She glanced at the oven. Dinner only had ten minutes to go. She walked over and switched the oven to off. While it had been set to auto oven and should shut off on its own, she didn’t want to risk a fire. If she didn’t open the oven door, the chicken would finish cooking anyway.

  She stepped out onto the back porch.

  “Michael?” She called.

  There was no answer. She crossed the back yard and went into the barn. Hank lay on the cool cement floor, sleeping. He didn’t even lift his head to acknowledge her presence. His front paw twitched like he was chasing something in his sleep. Rachael walked over to the stairs and climbed them to the hay loft. At the top of the stairs, she stopped at the sight of Michael and Spike fast asleep in the hay.

  Outside she heard an unfamiliar car engine pull into the yard. She glanced out of the front hay loft double boors and spied a small truck sitting in front of her house. Spike sat up and perked his ears up, hearing it as well. He cocked his head to one side listening.

  The vehicle honked its horn. He tore past Rachael and down the stairs barking. The commotion woke Hank as well, who went out to bark at the stranger.

  Michael sat up and yawned. “Didn’t Maysie lock the gate on her way out?”

  “Obviously not.” Rachael answered. She turned to go back downstairs.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To see who it is. We can’t let Hank bite them.”

  “I think they’re bright enough not to get out of the truck.” Michael laughed. From the top of the barn they could see the two male dogs circling the small truck, teeth bared and hair standing up along the ridge of their spines.

  “Let’s hope so.” Rachael padded her way down to the first floor, still barefoot. She crossed the yard heading back toward the house. Michael ran up beside her.

  “I’m coming with you.”

  They walked through the back doors, locking them. Then they passed through the house and opened the front door. From there they could see the passenger in the truck was Honey, while the driver was the super thin blonde.

  Honey rolled down her window a crack and motioned Rachael to come over to the truck.

  “It’s me, Honey!”

  Rachael told Michael to wait at the front door where he was poised, ready to call 9-1-1 if need be. After the recent events she couldn’t be sure whether Honey’s visit was a friendly one or not. Rachael went out to see what they needed, their vehicle still idling in the driveway.

  When Rachael got to the truck, she saw a body slumped across the front seat, laying in Honey’s lap.

  Misty!

  “We didn’t know where else to go. We found her like this.”

  “Is she breathing?” Rachael screeched.

  “Yes, but she won’t wake up. If I called for help we’d get in trouble. Help us Rachael.”

  Rachael, not knowing what else to do, called for Michael to grab Hank. She opened the truck door and Honey helped her pull Misty out of the truck. Honey was wobbly on her feet, barely able to stand herself. She staggered. Rachael directed her to grab Misty’s feet while Rachael got the heaviest part, her upper torso. They carried her to the house and laid her down on the couch.

  “We have to call an ambulance. She needs medical attention.” Rachael grabbed her own cell phone out of her purse and dialed. She returned to Misty trying to wake her.

  Honey went back outside to tell the other girl. Rachael heard the vehicle driving away.

  The 9-1-1 operator answered the call.

  “What’s your emergency?”

  “A friend of mine just showed up at my house with a girl, passed out, and I can’t wake her.”

  “Is she breathing?”

  “Yes, but she’s not responsive at all.”

  “Do you know her name?”

  “Yes. Her name is Misty. I know her from school.”

  “An ambulance is on its way, ma’am.”

  Michael stood in the front doorway.

  “Go shut the dogs up in the barn.” Rachael ordered. He ran from the house and she could hear him calling the dogs.

  Rachael got a wash cloth from the hall linen closet and dampened it. She came back over to Misty and placed it across her forehead. Her color was between ashen gray and white. Her lips were lackluster and other than her shallow breaths she looked…

  Dead.

  Rachael’s hand shook a bit as she patted her arm. She said a silent prayer for Misty and her life. That the Lord spare her.

  Rachael could hear the sirens coming up her driveway after what felt like an eternity. Michael must’ve greeted them outside because he was suddenly there opening the door, propping it open. The EMT had a stretcher. Rachael stood and moved out of their way. They took her pulse and put an oxygen mask on Misty.

  Her eyes didn’t move, not even a flutter. She was completely oblivious to everything going on around her.

  One of the first responders came over, along with a deputy, to ask Rachael some questions. She provided them with Misty’s full legal name, her age, her weight, etc. She called Mrs. Baxter to get her parents’ contact information. Mrs. Baxter answered on the first ring. Rachael rushed through an explanation for her call. She handed the phone to the deputy who arrived on the scene. He recorded all of the information. When he finished he handed the phone back to Rachael.

  Since Misty was no longer a minor, no guardian was needed to obtain permission to take her to the hospital. Rachae
l and Michael sat in her house, speaking with the deputies, the same two who’d been called out to their house a few weeks earlier.

  “The blonde was the same girl as before. The other girl with her was Honey.”

  “Since your friend Misty isn’t a minor and obviously went with them willingly, as well as used some sort of substance knowingly, they haven’t broken any laws here. I’d still like to contact them though.”

  Rachael thought back to Honey’s debilitated stagger and the glaze covered effect of her eyes. She provided the deputy with Honey’s cell phone number and home address so that the officer could follow up with her himself.

  “Any idea where they’d come from?” He questioned.

  “No. We’re not close friends. They brought her here and just dumped her out.” Rachael said in disbelief.

  “Not getting caught in possession or under the influence was more important than saving a friend’s life.” The deputy stood up and gave Rachael his business card again. “Just in case you’ve lost the other one.”

  “No, sir. I still have it. Thank you.”

  Rachael and Michael stood to walk the deputies to the door. The EMT’s and ambulance departed earlier, and must’ve been nearing the hospital with Misty by now. After closing the door, Rachael and Michael went into the kitchen and sat at the table, both too stunned by the afternoon’s events to speak about it further.

  “Go turn the dogs out, please. Just in case we have any more visitors today. I’ll walk down and lock the gate.”

  Michael nodded, hesitating, “Let’s do it together.”

  Rachael decided he was right, and while she didn’t think they’d ever show up here again, she knew he must be a little scared by what he’d seen today. She was a few years older and she was freaked out by it.

  Misty could’ve died…she could still die.

  They walked out to the barn and let Hank and Spike out of the stalls. The dogs raced wildly around the yard trailing where all of the strangers had walked. Rachael and Michael continued up to the gate, closing, chaining, and locking it. They strolled back to the house and Michael excused himself to go play some video games. Rachael watched him, worried he might have some questions for her.

  “Michael?”

  He paused, “Yep.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No. I think I figured it out. She did some drugs and was unconscious, so they dropped her off, like trash. They didn’t even stick around to see if she was okay. It’s not cool. No one deserves to be treated like that.”

  “I think they were worried about getting busted.”

  “Still, no excuse. That sucks.” He turned and walked into his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

  The sound of Travis’ truck out front alerted Rachael to his presence. She walked up and opened the door waiting for him. He stepped into the foyer and hugged her gently to him.

  “You okay?”

  “I guess so. I was more worried about Michael but he seems to understand it, as best a fifteen-year-old can. What I don’t get is why did they come here?”

  “You’re closest to Ted’s house. I’m assuming that’s where they brought her from.”

  “Ted’s?”

  “You don’t want to know where it is, trust me. But she probably overdosed there. There’s no phone or running water there half the time. These aren’t the type of people who pay their utility bills. Even if they had cell phones, they wouldn’t want to incriminate themselves, or be placed there.”

  “So they brought her here?”

  “They didn’t want her to die is my guess. Your house is closest and Honey knew you’d do the right thing.” He opened the oven and looked inside. “Chicken?”

  “Yes, it’s chicken.” Rachael opened a drawer and pointed to a pot holder and oven mitt. He picked them up and pulled the chicken and yams out of the oven, closing the door with his foot.

  Rachael reached up and got down three plates. Travis tossed the pot holder and mitt on the counter, then he walked down the hall to Michael’s door. She heard him rap on it.

  “Not hungry.” Michael responded behind it.

  “It’s me, Travis. If you don’t come now, there won’t be any left for you.” He warned.

  “Coming!” Michael swung the door open and attempted to push past him to beat him to the kitchen. Travis scooped him up and flipped him, beating him to the kitchen. Michael smiled from ear to ear. Rachael gave Travis a look of gratitude. Travis served their plates too full and set them on the table. Rachael poured Michael a chocolate milk, his new favorite.

  “Is that chocolate milk?” Travis’ eyes gleamed.

  “Would you like one too, little boy?” Rachael teased.

  “Yes.” He pleaded.

  “Okay. Chocolate milk all around.”

  They all sat down at the table. Rachael cut her chicken breast and found it a little tough…and dry.

  “It’s a little over cooked.” She frowned at her first attempt at chicken.

  “A little? My sneaker is more tender.”

  Travis kicked Michael under the table.

  “Ouch.” Michael rephrased his last statement. “It’s good considering you were distracted and had to leave it in the oven, and the sauce and yams are great!”

  “You don’t have to be sweet guys. I know it’s not the best chicken, but I’m getting better.”

  Travis took a huge swig of chocolate milk nearly choking on a hunk of chicken. “No, really, baby. It’s good stuff.” Everyone cracked up, so he changed the subject. “Are you going to go see her in the hospital?”

  “I wasn’t going to.” Rachael thought about it. “If we’d ever been friends I’d go, but she hates me.”

  “Maybe not now. You’ve probably saved her life.”

  “I’ll think about it, but I won’t be heading up there any time soon.”

  “You wouldn’t want to. The first several days are the worst!” Michael’s eyes widened as he spoke. “First they’ll be making her swallow charcoal and puke it out! She’ll be in detox, maybe even a drug addiction or rehab center.”

  “How do you know so much?” Rachael marveled.

  “Internet. I went back to look it up.”

  “Great. It will be fun to explain this to Mom tonight.”

  “You don’t need to. The mom hotline is already in action. My mom called all the moms, including yours.” Travis had nearly drained his milk glass trying to moisten the near chicken-jerky he chewed. “It’s crazy how fast they all communicate.”

  “That’s kind of a relief.”

  “Only in this situation. There are other things I wish the mom hotline wouldn’t communicate.” Travis winked at her.

  “That’s my cue to leave.” Michael stood up and cleared his own plate, placing it in the kitchen sink. Rachael heard him grab the house phone and walk out onto the back porch. Travis stood and cleared both he and Rachael’s plates, glasses, and silverware. He walked into the kitchen and rinsed them off.

  “When were you planning on telling me about the true love waits conversation with Mama?”

  “I wasn’t. It’s not something we need to discuss, is it?” Rachael toyed with her napkin.

  Travis loaded the dishes into the dishwasher. Plates on the bottom, glasses on the top.

  “I’ve never seen you do the dishes before.” She observed.

  “I’m nervous. Keeping busy.” He rinsed the silverware. “Your dad called me.”

  “My dad?”

  “Yep. I was on my way here. It was unpleasant.”

  “I can imagine. So let me guess, you asked your mom and dad to change our purity agreement, your mom told me…and also talked to my mom.” Of course Rachael had known about the first parts of this equation for months now. Guilt over not admitting as much to Travis welled up inside her stomach, but she truly never expected her father to call him. And why now? After all this time. He has to have known for a long time…

  “Bingo.” Travis started washing the glass baking dis
hes by hand which were too large to fit in the dishwasher.

  “So my dad threatened to kill you.”

  “Not exactly, but he told me to quit pressuring you and keep it, put away, so to speak.”

  Rachael covered her face to hide the crimson spreading from collar to hairline.

  “We’ve never had it out. Now he’ll call me next.”

  “Yep.” Travis got out a dish towel. “Turns out you’re having quite the afternoon already. I thought I should warn you.”

  Travis turned around and saw her seated at the bar, head laying on her forearms.

  “Where do these go?”

  “Under the counter, beside the stove.” Her muffled response unclear.

  He walked over and put his arms around her waist. “I owe you an apology, Rach. I’m sorry for pressuring you and I’m sorry for pushing. It won’t happen again.”

  “No need to apologize. You haven’t pressured me. Now to handle my father, are we back to chaperoned outings?”

  “Nope. He said he thinks he made himself clear, and without sharing any details with you, he did.”

  Rachael’s cell phone rang sharply. It was her father’s ringtone. She answered reluctantly.

  “Hi, Dad.”

  “Hey. Is Travis there now?”

  “He is. He just told me the two of you talked.”

  “We did. Did he apologize?”

  “He did, but really, Dad, he never laid a hand on me, or pushed me in that way.”

  “Asking his parents is pushing you, it may be a more upfront and straightforward way of going about it, but he did it- and in the end it made you uncomfortable.”

  “His mom told you that?” The only thing that made me uncomfortable was her…

  “She told your mother.” Her father paused. “So I have his word he won’t bring it up again, and if he does, you’ll find yourself in boarding school.”

  “Boarding school!” Rachael shrieked.

  “Get married, or go to boarding school, those are the options.”

  Rachael couldn’t believe her father was serious. He’d always been more laid back than this. What had changed?

  “Have I made things clear?” He asked after a minute of stunned silence.