Her eyes widened as she watched Sheriff Baker step out of the car, his face grim.
“Cassie, you stay here with Cody,” she said as she walked down the steps.
“Cassie.” Cody placed a hand on my arm, stopping me when I tried to follow my mom.
I shrugged his hand off and flew down the steps with Cody following close behind.
What followed was a blur as if I was having an out of body experience.
Sheriff Baker was saying words that wouldn’t register in my mind. It was as if a fog came out of nowhere and drifted over Koppe covering the bright Texas sun and engulfing everything in a dark gray blanket. The only thing I could see was the reflection of my mother’s face in Sheriff Baker’s mirrored sunglasses.
Her gentle face twisted into an expression that I’d never seen before as words like “domestic violence call,” “shoot out,” “he was heroic,” and “my condolences” drifted on the breeze and disappeared as soon as they were uttered.
Heaviness filled my chest and I struggled to breathe. Nothing made sense. Dad was coming home soon. He always did. I must’ve misunderstood what the sheriff was telling Mom.
I closed my eyes, trying to catch my breath. And for some reason, I saw flashes of myself with Dad, memories of when I was five and he was teaching me to ride my bike with the training wheels off.
“Don’t let go, Daddy!”
“I won’t. You sure you don’t want me to put the training wheels back on?”
“No, I can do this.” I scrunched my face with determination.
He chuckled. “All right then.”
“Just cross your heart and hope to die you won’t let go ’til I say so.”
“I promise. I won’t let go until you’re ready.”
I wobbled as I tried to keep the bike steady, my feet pushing hard, propelling the bike forward. His voice warm and full of support was behind me.
“You can do it, Cassie. Keep going.”
“Okay, Daddy. Let go!”
I felt a release and I pedaled faster. Then I heard his voice in the distance.
“You’re doing it, Cassie. You’re doing it!”
“Look at me, Daddy! I’m a big girl. I’m riding all by myself!”
I turned my head to look back at him, giving him a big grin. He waved, his silhouette growing smaller as I rode further away.
“That’s my wild girl! That’s my Cassie!”
Someone was calling out my name. I blinked, but everything was a blur. I felt water droplets falling onto my cheeks. It’s raining? How is it raining? I looked up. The strange mist was breaking apart.
Screams. There was someone screaming. A voice was screaming, “I’m not ready!”
Not ready for what?
My throat started to hurt. Why does my throat hurt? It’s raining and I’m getting a sore throat. Now my head was pounding. Why won’t the screaming stop? Somebody stop it. Stop screaming!
Strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me into a warm and damp chest. A hand pressed against my head.
“I’ve got you, Cassie. I’m here.”
Cody. It’s Cody.
I look up at him. Then I realized I was the one screaming. His handsome face was twisted in pain. The last time I had seen him like that was when I found him alone, crying over losing his father’s photo.
And then it hit me.
“Daddy’s dead.”
SIX: Cody
My fingers brushed the felt pouch that held my carving tools. I didn’t recognize the hands that touched it: large, rough. They were a man’s hands—my father’s hands.
I held the tiger’s eye up to the light. Sunlight hit it reflecting hues of brown, amber, and gold. It reminded me of the gold in Dale’s eyes...Cassie’s eyes.
I pulled out a diamond needle file from the pouch. After dipping the stone into a small bowl of water, I slid the file back and forth at the top of the rounded part of the stone, carving a groove into it.
The movements were rhythmic, calming. With each stroke, the file cut deeper into the stone. I’d been working on the carving for the past couple of days. No one was around to bother me. Just me sitting alone, under the tree in the front of the trailer home that my uncle and I lived in. When I called Mike and told him about what happened to Dale, he’d said he’d be here by this afternoon—in plenty of time for tomorrow’s funeral.
The familiar hammer slammed against my chest and I gasped in pain. It happened every time I thought of the funeral. I quickly focused my attention back on the stone. No time to think about anything else. Didn’t want to. All I wanted to do was finish my work. I had to finish it...for Cassie.
I reached for the sandpaper. My mind was blissfully empty again, only registering the rough touch of the paper as I folded it and the warmth of the water as I dipped the stone back into the small bowl. Carefully, I rubbed the paper into the groove that I had made with the file. The rhythmic, mindless movement again soothed the river of pain in my chest.
As much as I tried, faces haunted my mind, flickering in and out of consciousness: Dale’s kind eyes, patiently teaching me how to hook bait onto my first fishing rod; Ann, Cassie’s mom, ruffling my hair after she placed a slice of German chocolate cake in front me; and Cassie...her gentle smile like a warm summer breeze, the one she’d had only for me ever since we promised to be friends when we were kids. I thought of her smile often on those frigid Utah days. When I stood shivering in the snow waiting for the school bus, I’d reach for the tiger’s eye. It hadn’t left my pocket since the day she’d given it to me. It reminded me of her and Dale and...home.
I put down the sandpaper and looked at the stone again. The cleft was clear and the stone was taking shape. I reached for the Dremel and attached a polishing wheel. The wheel spun creating a shine on the stone, and my mind drifted back to Cassie.
She was different and the same. Those hauntingly beautiful brown eyes so full of life, her sun-kissed cheeks, the chestnut hair she tried to tame by putting it up in a ponytail. She was still the same Cassie, her spirit wild and carefree. I wanted to tell her how glad I was to be back, how happy I was to see her and how I thought about her a lot.
I almost did until...
The pain hit my chest again. I shook my head, shaking the thoughts that threated to break me.
I took the polishing wheel and replaced it with a drill bit. With a light touch, I drilled a hole into the center of the crevice. When I was done, I reached for the sliver-plated bail. It was so delicate. I prayed Cassie would like it when I gave it to her, maybe it would bring some comfort to her like it did for me.
I placed some adhesive on the screw and inserted the bail into the hole. As I placed my finished work into a piece of felt cloth, a truck pulled up.
Mike got out and waved to the person who dropped him off.
I blinked as if I was coming out of a stupor. Somehow hours had passed and the sun had gone down. I hadn’t even noticed that I’d been outside working the entire day. Suddenly, fatigue washed over me.
Mike eyed me sitting under the tree, his brow furrowed with worry. Then he held up a brown paper bag from Dairy Queen. “Hungry?”
I was lucky to have an uncle like Mike. He always treated me like an equal and gave me space when I needed it. He didn’t even bat an eye when I started calling him by his first name when I came back from Utah.
I shook my head, afraid that if I opened my mouth I would let out something that I couldn’t control. It was at the surface, the pain that threatened to take me over for the past couple of days. I didn’t know if I could take it.
I gathered my things and headed toward the trailer. Mike placed a hand on my shoulder.
I kept my head down as he spoke. “I’m sorry, Cody. I know how much Dale meant to you. He was a good man.”
When I heard those words, it felt like a hand plunged into my chest and squeezed my heart so hard that tears sprang into my eyes. I nodded and quickly let myself into the trailer. I ran to my room and shut the door. Placing my back
against the door, I slid to the floor. I couldn’t breathe. I tried to suck in air but all I felt was heat on my face and pounding inside my chest.
I couldn’t hold it back anymore. Every single memory I had of Dale and Cassie came flooding into my mind. I would never see him again. The family I’d had, when I thought I’d never have one again after Dad died, was gone.
Thoughts of them kept me going when I was in Utah. My mother thought that by going back to her family in Salt Lake City that I’d have a family too. She was wrong. Oh, they were polite and kind, always nice. But I didn’t fit in. I wasn’t one of them. I didn’t belong.
Coming back to Koppe and memories of Cassie’s family had been the things that had kept me going. And now, Dale was...
I banged the back of my head against the door, again and again. Anything to take away the crushing ache in my chest. Tears slid down my face as I sat wondering what I was going to do now.
Then I thought of Cassie, and prayed that her beautiful wild spirit wouldn’t die like mine did when my father died.
SEVEN: Cody
It was too bright. The sky too blue. The weather too perfect. Everyone too dressed up. It was the same when my father died. Some of the same people that were at Dad’s funeral were present for Dale’s. Some of them even wore the same black clothes.
I stood with Mike just outside of the group of people surrounding the grave. Everyone’s face was stoic, except for Cassie’s. Tears streamed down her pale face as she stared at the casket. Mandi stood next to her with one arm around her and the other handing Cassie tissues. The gentle wind blew Cassie’s hair and she kept tucking it behind her ears. It was thick and wild. It was a mess. So very different from the other women there with perfectly coiffed hair and carefully placed make up. And yet, even in her grief, she was beautiful.
After the pastor’s last words, the crowd began to disperse. Mandi whispered something to Cassie. Cassie shook her head. Mandi gave her a solemn look, hugged her, and went to her family who patiently waited by their car.
“Cody, ya comin’?”
I shook my head at Mike. “I need to talk to Cassie.” My voice was a mere whisper, but at the mention of her name, she lifted her head.
Her chin quivered for a moment then stopped when I gave her a sad smile. She said something to her mother who was talking to Sheriff Baker.
I scanned the crowd nervously. I hadn’t noticed that the sheriff was here. It made sense since Dale worked for him. I sighed with relief when I didn’t see any sign of Seth or his brothers. Luckily, I hadn’t run into them since I got back into town.
“Mike, Cody, thanks for coming,” Cassie said as she approached me.
“Your father was a fine man,” Mike said. “Cody and I owe him a lot.”
He then turned to me and said, “I’ll be waitin’ in the truck. You take your time.”
When Mike left, I fingered the felt square in my pocket nervously. “I’m sure sorry for your loss.”
That sounded so fake. I had hated it when people said it to me. I was only saying it now because I didn’t know what else to tell her.
“Thank you.” Her sad brown eyes gazed steadily into mine. How I wished I could take her into my arms and hold her so she could feel what I didn’t have the words to say.
“I mean more than that. I just can’t get the words right.” I swallowed, hoping for the right words. “I’ll miss him,” I finally said. “He was special.”
“Yes, he was.” Her voice was a heart-breaking whisper.
“I have something for you.” I took the pouch out of my jeans pocket and placed it in her palm. “I thought you might need this more than I do.”
She opened the felt pouch and gasped. Fresh tears streamed down her face. “It’s the tiger’s eye. You made it into a necklace.” Her finger glided over the now heart-shaped stone. “How’d you do this?”
My gaze drifted down, nervously kicking at the loose dirt. “Was nothin’. I made a little cleft on top and stuck a bail in it.”
“It’s beautiful,” she breathed. “Will you help me put it on?”
My calloused fingers brushed against her smooth ones as I took the delicate chain from her. Carefully, I opened the latch. The smell of jasmine wafted through the air as she moved her hair to the side and waited for me to put the necklace on her.
After I fastened it around her neck, she turned and gave me a gentle smile. “I can’t believe you kept it.”
I looked into her soulful eyes. “Wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t have it near me. Now it’ll protect you.”
Her eyes grew sad again. “I’m afraid I’m going to need it. We’re moving to Houston.”
I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. “You’re moving?”
She nodded. “Mom can’t afford to keep the ranch, and she can’t find a job that will support us here.”
“Cassie!”
She turned to the sound of Sheriff Baker’s voice. “Your mom’s asking for you, girl.”
Cassie turned to me, her face warring between wanting to stay and going to her mom.
“When do you leave?” I asked.
“Tomorrow.”
No! Please don’t leave me too. The dull pain in my chest began to grow.
“That soon.”
“Yeah,” she said sadly.
“Cassie!” Sheriff Baker snapped.
I threw a glare at the sheriff. My father never did like him, and Mike stayed as far away from him as possible. He was a bully with a badge and his sons followed in his footsteps.
Before I knew it, Cassie threw her arms around me and kissed my cheek. “I’ll never forget you.”
I wanted to tell her that I wouldn’t forget her either, that I’d write to her every day, that having her and her family in my life was the best thing that could’ve happened to me. But all I could do was watch her run to her mother, her black dress fluttering in the breeze, taking my heart with her.
EIGHT: Cassie
1988
Everything and everyone was exactly the same. I don’t know why I thought things would be different coming back to Koppe. It’d only been a year since I left. I walked down the hall looking for Mandi. The first week of school was always fun for me, especially now that I was a senior and back in Koppe. Banners with the phrases “Welcome Class of ’89” and “Go Cougars! Crush the Rebels!” lined the hallway.
“Hi, Cassie!” Tricia Fletcher waved from across the hall. “Glad to have you back!”
I smiled, waving back. “Have you seen Mandi?”
“She’s in the courtyard.”
“Thanks.” I was so happy to be back and I had Mandi to thank for it.
When my mom and I moved to Houston after my father’s funeral, I didn’t notice or care anything about the school I was in. Every day I had walked down the school’s hall in a sea of nameless faces. I didn’t know them, and they didn’t know me. Not that I had bothered to try to get to know anyone. I was numb, barely surviving. The only light in my day was when I got a letter or an occasional phone call from Mandi. Money was tight for her family too and neither of us could afford the long distance call more than once a month.
Getting a letter from Mandi was like having a piece of home. She’d kept me up-to-date with the town gossip, but what I really wanted to know was how Cody was doing. Each day I went to the mailbox, I had hoped to find something from him, a letter, a postcard, anything. I really thought he’d write at least once.
It wasn’t until the summer before my senior year when I visited Mandi that I saw a glimmer of hope. I thought it would be hard for me to see all the familiar places where my dad and I used to hang out. Mandi, fresh with her driver’s license and borrowing her father’s old Ford Pinto, drove me to the ranch. It had gone into foreclosure and was sold to some company. No one had moved into the place.
I felt a sense of comfort being back in Koppe. I felt like my old self again, and I really wanted to stay. I didn’t want to go back to Houston.
Before i
t was time for me to go back, Mandi’s parents sat me down and in broken English asked if I wanted to stay with them until I graduated. Mandi’s father said he had spoken to my mom and that if I wanted to, I had a home with them.
I was blown away. Mandi’s family struggled to make ends meet. Her father worked two jobs and her mother often worked late in the evening cleaning business offices in College Station. Sometimes, Mandi had to stay home from school to take care of Miguelito and Selina so that her mom could earn extra money cleaning houses during the day. And yet, here they were offering me a place with them.
Mandi had told me that it would be an insult to them if I turned them down. So, instead, I insisted that I’d contribute by helping with the household bills. Fortunately, the manager at the Piggly Wiggly, Mr. Fletcher, was an old friend of my mom’s and I was able to get a job as a cashier working a few hours after school and weekends.
I pushed opened the school doors and stepped outside. The courtyard was filled with students sitting on picnic tables, eating their lunch. I looked around, nervously fiddling with my tiger’s eye necklace. I told myself I was looking for Mandi, when really I was hoping to find Cody. I don’t know why. He didn’t bother staying in touch with me. What kind of friend was that? If he couldn’t bother, why should I?
Then I saw him.
Cody was leaning against the building with some guy I’d seen before. The guy had this cowboy-wannabe look to him. He was obviously from the city and trying to fit in. I think it was the navy boots and green jeans that gave it away. I cringed as I looked over what he wore. I didn’t know anyone who actually wore a Texas-shaped buckle. It was huge. It almost covered his entire stomach.
Cody was all cowboy, wearing a tight fitting black t-shirt tucked into his jeans. The way he leaned against the wall, his right boot pressed up against the wall and thumb hooked in his pocket, was sexy as hell. His eyes were closed as he lifted his head toward the sun. The movement caused his shirt to stretch a little, highlighting his toned chest. Slowly, he let out a slow puff from his cigarette. Through the smoky mist, I saw him tense his unshaven jaw for a moment before he relaxed it. For some reason, that simple movement had me mesmerized.
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