Calliope: Voice of the Writers
The Great Novel Race 2008:
Tumbleweeds
by Erin Trauth
------------------------------
Chapter 3: The Cowboy
(return to Tumbleweeds chapter listings)
With Mama and Jasper out of my hair for one Godforsaken second, I was ready to make a good find out in the woods, and it meant a lot to me that night that I find something, since I was an adult now, after all. I felt like a woman in my dress, and I damn well was one now, as far as I was concerned. And so I went. Ever since I had found a tattered old Bible in the back yard a year or so before, I had been finding little treasures all over the place in the woods behind our house. The woods were big enough to explore for about an hour, walking the paces from one edge of the property and back, and it seemed like every time I thought I had found all I could back there – the Bible, a feather pen, an empty bottle of Old Spice, a rusty silver chain, a couple of muddy tennis shoes – I went and found something new. The findings were few and far between, but they came like clockwork on the days I really wanted to find them, like that night, my birthday night. Johnny was the only person I had told about my findings, and he told me it was probably some homeless man's stuff. I thought something else altogether. For the past year, I had had thoughts that there was a man living out in our woods, a young cowboy or farm hand secretly gifting me with his belongings until I was old enough for him to come formally introduce himself. I didn't tell Johnny about that part, of course. It was when I found something from my cowboy, though, that I had these fantasies, and the night of my fourteenth birthday, walking in my beautiful white gown, I wanted nothing more than to find something from him.
After a good forty minutes of pacing through the woods, kind of looking, kind of just walking along, too, I saw it. It was right there on the edge of the Williams property that backed up into our land on the furthermost right corner of the woods. It was just what I needed, too, and I silently thanked my cowboy for leaving it for me. He always knew what to get me. It was a small silver stopwatch, glimmering brightly from the reflection of the moon from under a huge willow branch. The clock wasn't ticking, but I could tell from the smoothness of the metal it had been used for a long, long time. I imagined it pressed upon the cowboy's chest, ticking next to his heart as he went about his everyday life stuff. I almost felt guilty stooping down to pick it up and planning to keep it for my own, as I always did with his things, but then I reminded myself that he had left it just for me. I crouched to the soft dirt ground, cradling the stopwatch, forgetting momentarily about the white dress that cascaded around my legs to the ground. I thought about my Mama then, probably doing awful things with Jasper at that very instant, and I suddenly didn't care about the dress.
I laid completely on the ground, the stopwatch clenched in my left hand, and I closed my eyes tight. I imagined my cowboy then, his face a blur but still very familiar. I slid my right hand under my now dirty dress, and then I saw him very clearly. He was tall, taller than Mama, taller than Jasper. He was dark in every way – his eyes, his skin, his hair, his voice. He wore a dark hat that he took off in my presence…a fully-bloomed woman's presence that is. I imagined him there with me, lying on the soft earth's floor. He complimented my dress, and his sweet voice beckoned me like it always did. He asked me to leave with him, as he always did, to leave Florida forever to live by his side. "I love you, Carolina," he said, his dark eyes pressed into my mind, so clear and so dark that I think I really saw them. "You never have to worry about a thing with me." I almost heard him sigh as I envisioned his rough hands wrap around me, his strong biceps clenched and glistening under the sun. He pulled me to him then, and we ran away…away from that house…away from Florida forever. I felt my hand become his beneath me, and he felt me slowly and deeply, over and over and over again until I felt my toes curl and my lips purse tightly together. I fell back into myself, feeling my back arch slightly as a familiar sensation tingled from my ears to my toes and back up again, shaking me. I quickly got up, feeling guilty suddenly, feeling as dirty as the dress that was now covered with soil. I frantically tried to scrub away the mud, but I knew it was too late. I ran back toward the house, the stopwatch still clenched in my hand, wondering how long I had been gone.
I thought I could sneak through the side door to avoid Mama and Jasper, but it just couldn't have been that easy – not in that house. Mama and Jasper sat right there as I burst in, both sipping on their evening golden nectar. It was apparent from the castle of Milwaukee's Best cans on the counter that it wasn't their first. I stepped into their view, feeling my body tense with anticipation. Mama took one look at me, her eyes fluttering over the dirt stains all over my dress. Her newly lit cigarette fell from her mouth to the floor as she opened her mouth wide to speak – but Jasper chimed in before she could utter a word.
"You ungrateful little bitch!” he yelped awkwardly, chucking his beer can down as he rose from his chair. He threw his arm in front of Mama as if to say, I'll take care of this. The thing is, though, is that while I knew Mama was mad, she wasn't quite in the state Jasper seemed to be in. It was a dress, it could be fixed. I knew that. Mama knew that. But Jasper didn't, I guess.
"Your Mama spent a whole week's tips on that damned ugly piece of shit!" He veered toward me with pink eyes, his breath hot with the smell of the alcohol, and he stumbled to the side from the suddenness of the moved. He charged forward, swinging a clenched fist toward my chest. I ducked swiftly, feeling only the whoosh of air in front of me, and I couldn’t hold in the tiny scream that flew from my lips into the murky air. Jasper stumbled backward from the force of his own missed blow, and I ran straight toward my room, not looking back. I slammed the door behind me, sobbing, my body shaking from his reaction, from his suddenness. I crawled underneath my covers, waiting for the worst.
"Lynette, it's one thing to let your goddamn sons to bed dirty, but dammit, they're boys!" Jasper screamed from the kitchen. "I won't have none of that in my house, none! Dirty little bitch! Put her on restriction, right now, and tell her you ain't fixing that dress!"
His house?
As I laid there, sobbing to myself, I could see the drunken thoughts scurry through Mama's mind. Disagree, and that's another man out the door. I knew what would come next before she even did, but for once I wished I could be wrong. I wasn't, though, and my premonition was confirmed as I heard Mama pounce down the hall and bang her hand against my door. "Carolina Ann!" she started. "I…I can't believe your actions, tonight, young lady! You are restricted for…for as long as Jasper and I say….and don't plan on me fixin' that dress for you!" I could still hear Jasper muttering to himself in the kitchen, something about bitches and nonsense. My eyes welled up with more fat tears than I thought they could handle, and I began to swallow them as I gasped for air beneath my comforter. Stupid asshole Jasper.. stupid me…Why did I mess my dress up like that? Stupid cowboy…stupid fake cowboy… So much for my wonderful fourteenth birthday. So much for...suddenly, my thoughts were cut short when I heard a soft creak on my door. I first thought it was Snickers, our cocker spaniel, but when figure that caused the creak sighed, I knew it was Mama.
She placed her hand to my door. I held my breath to keep from crying, and I sat for what seemed like hours, waiting for the voice, the voice that bruised me worse than Jasper’s fists ever could.
Then it came, just as it always did, and I just barely heard her soft whisper, "I'm so sorry, baby. I had to do it… Carolina, please forgive me…Lord…good Lord…please, please forgive me at last."
-----------------------------------
Click here to read comments for this piece or to add a comment of your own!
------------------------------------------
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(return to Tumbleweeds chapter listings)
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Note: Copyright for any published piece within Calliope remains with the author of the piece, unless otherwise noted. Please do not reproduce or distribute any of the content of the site without the author's permission.