Calamity Jane

I drive Landon to the airport two weeks later, because his older brother is working, as usual. I glance over at him every few seconds. His hands are clenching the sides of the seat and his whole body looks tense. When I’ve parked the car, I reach over and place my right hand on his left, wanting to comfort him.

He breathes out and shudders a bit, giving me a small smile. “Landon,” I say, “you don’t have to do this. It’s not too late to back out.”

He shakes his head and I focus on the planes leaving and arriving the airport. They are loud and soar through the air and through the clouds. People are piling in and out of the buildings, all in a hurried frenzy.

“I need to do this,” he says, squeezing my hand. I can’t look at him. Landon isn’t the soldier type; he’s quiet, mild, and shy. The first time he’s yelled at in boot camp, he will probably break down crying. I know from my brothers that the training is intense. I’m worried for him.

“Well, we’re here,” I say, turning my car off. I immediately regret it, because it’s smoldering hot and sweat starts to run down my shirt. I fidget uncomfortably and try to smile at Landon.

“Your parents would have been proud,” I tell him. “They should be the ones dropping you off.”

He turns away and glances out the window, his hand still in mine. Landon’s parents died when he was thirteen and his brother took custody of him after that. They lived in the apartment building next to my family’s house and, besides going to the same school, that’s how we got to know one another.

“My parents wanted me to be an engineer,” he mutters. “They wanted me to go far and be rich like my brother.”

He’s silent for a moment and I glance at the clock. “Well I can’t be like him,” Landon says, “I don’t want to be rich if it means being alone and unhappy.”

He releases my hand and unfastens his seat belt. “Thanks June,” he says, leaning over the middle console. He plants a soft kiss on my cheeck and wraps his arms around me. I find that tears are involuntarily falling down my face and I return his embrace. I remove my seatbelt and lift my legs up so that I can get closer to him. I’m sobbing and whispering to him, wishing he didn’t have to go.

“I don’t want you to go,” I shudder and hold on to him. We rock back and forth and I ignore the uncomfortableness of the console. I feel bad for every mean thing I said and thought during the course of our relationship and I need him to understand this.

“I love you June,” he whispers, placing both hands on each side of my face. He stares at me and fixes my hair. “I know you may not love me but if you could wait, I’d take care of you.”
I sigh and place my hands on his face. “I’m sorry,” I say, “for everything. I was never a good girlfriend. You need someone better.”

I kiss his cheek and let go of him and climb back into my seat. There’s a deathening silence that lasts for a few moments.

“There is no one else, June,” he says. “Jane. Calamity. I love you.”

I wipe my face and stare forward. I should tell him that I love him but I don’t want to. I don’t want him to think of me when he should be worried about staying alive. “Landon,” I grasp the steering wheel, “I won’t be here when you get back. I… you deserve someone else.”

He’s silent and I hear the door open. My stomach drops but I don’t dare look to see him leave. My door is opened moments later and I feel arms being wrapped around me, lifting me out of the car. I open my mouth in shock, trying to protest and look up to see Landon.
He lifts me up and kisses me, his hands firmly wrapped around my waist. After a moment, he releases me and we stare at each other, breathing heavily.

“I’ll take care of you,” he says, placing his forehead against mine, “It’ll be you and me. I don’t care about the rest… We can work it out. We can adopt.”

I don’t say anything. I simply nod my head and give him a small smile. I don’t want to cause him any more hurt the day he leaves for boot camp. He kisses me once more and goes to the back of my car, opens the door, and gets his things. “You go on home,” he says, “I don’t want you to get exhausted.”

I walk over to him and give him a hug and tell him I’ll miss him. “Write me, okay?”

He nods and closes the door. His bag is over his shoulder and already he looks different, older, almost. “Goodbye Calamity Jane,” he says. I give him a small wave and watch him walk to the door. He turns and looks at me before walking inside and smiles.

I wave once more, breathe deeply, and climb back in my car. I can feel his eyes on me as I start the car up and pull away.



I go to Taylor’s place because she’s the only person I like hanging out with lately. I walk up the steps to the apartment complex and don’t even have time to knock on her door before it’s opened. She lets out a shriek when she sees me and curses.

“Shit, Jane, I almost cut you.” I try not to laugh as she straightens her purse over her shoulder. She’s wearing short shorts, a white tank top and boots. Her hair is up in a ponytail and she grabs me. “I gotta go to the store right quick. Can you wait here?”

“I could go with-”

“No,” she says quickly, “I just need to get a few things. I’ll be back in like ten minutes.” She starts down the stairs, leaving the door open. “Just make yourself at home. There’s pizza and snacks on the counter.”

She jumps in her vehicle before I have time to say anything else so I go inside and shut the door. I found out a week before that Taylor is actually a very organized person. She and her three sisters live here in this apartment together and everything is super neat.

I plop down on the couch and turn the TV on. It’s on Gossip Girl and I watch for a few minutes, until I get disgusted with seeing Jenny Humphrey’s face because she’s a stupid little home wrecking whore so I flip it back off. I climb up to my feet and wander into the kitchen, where there are various ingredients spread over the counter, which looks to be the makings of mashed potatoes. My stomach grumbles at this and I stare at the cut up potatoes in mourning. I wish my body allowed me to eat them.

There’s a soft bumping noise and I go to the living room to see if Taylor’s back already. The door is still securely shut but the window beside it slowly rises and a head pops in. My heart rate speeds up and I glance around frantically for a phone.

I can’t find words to say as a young guy climbs in, his eyes directly on me. In his hands, he has a screwdriver.

I’m going to die, I think.

He has a confused look on his face and his curly brown hair is messy. “Um…” he says, glancing around, “are you-”

I back away and grab a pillow off the couch. “Okay, I don’t know what you’re planning to do,” I say, “but I… I’m warning you… if you try to attack me I…” Know karate? Kung-fu? No, that’s lame. “I have a very large penis. Unless you like penis. In which case, I have a vagina.”

His mouth falls open and he furrows his brow. Holding his hands up, he bursts out laughing. “Whoa. Um… I’m Taylor’s…brother, sorry.” He bends over with his hands on his knees, shaking with laughter. He reaches his hand out to me, which I refuse, so he puts it back down. “I’m Hector. My name is Hector.”

“Well… Hector,” I say, feeling my face grow red, “I…don’t believe you.”

He gives me a blank look. “Hector Rosado. Taylor Leaver’s brother. We got three other sisters, Aracelis, Sonia, and Yamilex.”

“Well…okay,” I say, throwing the pillow down. “She didn’t say anything about a brother.”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “I’m their half brother. Same dad, different moms.”

“So are you mixed like them?”

He laughs, “Nope. I’m full-blooded Puerto Rican.”

“Well, you look white,” I say, blushing even harder. I can’t believe I said I had a penis. He’ll think I’m a freak.

He shrugs. “Yeah, well, that’s typical. I mean, most Spanish babies come out with colored eyes and blonde hair. Except Mexicans,” he adds. “You go to Spain, that’s all you see. Fair haired babies. It’s normal.”

“Oh,” I say. “Well…” I falter, and place my hands on my face. “I’m sorry about-”

He waves his hand. “Don’t worry. Your penis is safe with me.”

I burst out laughing at that and so does he.

“I… that did not come out right,” he says, shaking with laugher. I fall over on the couch and roll around, I’m laughing so hard.

“Oh my god,” I say, in between gasps of air, “I can’t breathe.”

It takes a few minutes for me to pull myself together. I sit up and bite my lip so I don’t go into another fit of laughter. He sits in the chair across from me and grins. “You’re Jane aren’t you?”

“Um…yeah,” I say my voice barely above a whisper. “How do you know?”

“My sister told me about you. But you don’t seem like a Jane. Seems too… tame for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He smirks. “You’re a red-head. And your hair is curly. Jane is a name for like, I don’t know, a girl with brown hair and mild manners.”

“Oh, so just because I’m a red-head, you assume I’m wild?”

“No, I just don’t think it fits.”

I roll my eyes. I’m definitely not telling him that he is technically correct, because my name is Calamity. But I’m not going to satisfy someone I’ve only just met. And not only that, he probably thinks I really do have a penis.

“I assume you were joking about the whole um… penis thing, right?” he asks, smiling.

“Uh, yeah. I just didn’t know what you were going to do.”

“You think I would… sexually attack you?” he asks. “I don’t know you well enough for that.”

“Ha,” I say, “that’s something that isn’t likely to change.”

He smirks and shrugs. “Donde esta mi hermana?”

“Your sister went to the store,” I reply.

“You know Spanish?” he asks, brightening up.

“Sí, hablo español.”

“Ah, nice,” he says, “usually white people can’t do the accent. You know, if you’re going to speak another language, at least try to use an accent. You know what I mean?”

“Yeah,” I reply. “I had a friend obsessed with finding her Latino lover so we took four Spanish classes together.”

He laughs at this. “Did she find him?”

“Um, well, she moved to Spain a month ago. She hasn’t called or anything, so I assume she did.”

He shakes his head and stretches his legs. He’s about to say something when the door opens and Taylor walks in, five bags in each hand. She looks at me, sees Hector and squeals, dropping the bags to the floor. Hector jumps up and they both run towards each other in slow motion, exclaiming in Spanish.

After a few moments, they release each other and are both looking at me, mumbling low, probably so I can’t hear. He nods and replies every few seconds and then their brief exchange ends with him helping her pick up the bags. They go into the kitchen and I can still hear them mumbling. I sigh and lay down.

Taylor comes in a few seconds later and sits on top of me, jumping up and down. “You should stay for dinner,” she says. “You haven’t met Sonia yet.”

I nod in reply and close my eyes, growing a bit nervous. Not about her sister, but about eating.

“I’m making mashed potatoes,” she says. My stomach flips and flops at this and I sigh. “I’m making salads, too,” she adds, “and steak.”

“Sounds good,” I murmur, feeling her weight being lifted off of me. I don’t want to tell her that I can’t eat mashed potatoes because they make me sick, so I decide I’ll find a way to get out of them later. I yawn sleepily and try to think about anything but Landon and secretly hope Hector doesn’t mention what I said earlier.

“It’ll be ready in an hour,” she says. I don’t open my eyes, but I murmur something in reply, slowly drifting off to sleep.