Fastest Girl In Town

The next night I came home from work absolutely exhausted. Typically due to the stress of my job I am tired and run down after the hours of labor. But something was different about this night. I couldn’t put my finger on it but something had rendered me truly beat. I collapsed on the couch after kicking off my boots and letting my hair down. I slowly massaged my scalp, having it tied back all day really put stress on it sometimes. While twisting my hair between my fingers, I thought back on a conversation I had with Shake earlier that day.

“Goddamnit!” I cried, clutching my foot and falling to the ground. “Ouch!” I reacted as I rubbed my tailbone. “Now my butt hurts too.”

“Hey, that’s whatcha get for goin' barefoot up here,” Shake laughed.

“My feet were sweating bullets! It’s nearly 100 degrees out here!”

“Excuses, excuses,” he tutted. I narrowed my eyes at him. “Hey, glaring at me ain’t gonna fix your foot.”

I lifted my leg up in the air and slapped on my best puppy dog face. I had seen my sisters do it so many times that I hoped I nailed it.

“Oh no. Hey, no. Listen here, I don’t do feet,” he said, slowly walking backward and waving his arms in front of his body.

“But Sh-aaaaaa-ke!”

“No. No. No. No.”

“Look at it! It’s all red and swollen. That rock didn’t puncture the skin but it sure as hell is gonna bruise. It needs a massage from the great Shake.”

“Hey, good luck becoming a contortionist because I’m not touching your feet. How many times do I have to tell ya?”

“Nineteen,” I smirked. “After nineteen times the information will finally pass through this thick skull and stick.”

“That’s a lot of time.”

I shrugged. “Don’t blame me. Blame my brain. I don’t really control any of the strange yet necessary things that go on up there.”

“Hey, there’s an idea.” Shake then moved up close to my head and knocked on my skill. “Hello! Hello in there!” he shouted in my ear. “Manager, or boss, or whatever of Stasia’s brain. Stop being so dang difficult, please. It’s quite annoying and I’m really getting sick of it.”

I laughed and started crawling desperately to get the hell away from Shake’s yelling. “You’re going to kill my ear drums!” I cried dramatically. “I’m going to go deaf and it will all be your fault, you nasty old cowboy.”

“I beg your pardon, ma’am,” he replied, really thickening his accent. “I apologize eardrums and occupants of Stasia’s brain.”

“What are you apologizing for?” I prodded.

“Wow, you really sound like a mom,” he muttered under his breath. I shoved him in the arm. Shake continued his apology. “I am deeply sorry for being so rude and rough. It was inconsiderate.”

“They both say that your apology is accepted, as long as you help me up.”

“Hey, there’s a good thing,” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me to my feet. “And hey, I bet you’ve forgotten all about your foot now, ain’t cha?”

I smiled. “Yeah, I guess I have.”

“And I didn’t have to go anywhere near your icky feet,” he smiled proudly.

I pulled my knees to my chest and wrapped my fingers around my injured foot. He was such a goofball, that Shake. He really knew how to put a smile on my face. When people talk about Southern charm and hospitality, they are actually just describing Shake. In my life and world, it really didn’t get much better.

At that moment, as I was gently putting different amounts of pressure on my foot and daydreaming, the front door slammed shut. I jumped and sprung to my feet.

“What in the world?” I shrieked. I then clasped my hand over my mouth, regretting saying anything.

My heart started racing as I went over the girls’ schedules in my mind. None of them had anything that would have kept them out this late; it was past 11:30. Mama never left her room unless it was to eat. That only left the option of a burglar or something of that sort. I unplugged the lamp from its place on the table next to the sofa and held it over my head. I could feel my arms shaking and the lamp slipping through my fingers. I tried to stabilize myself by taking deep breaths.

After a few deep inhales and exhales I padded into the foyer. Our door had never before been locked. Crime was never an issue. There were 300 people here and we all loved each other. Anything we wanted we simply asked. It wasn’t that difficult. And if the kids vandalized things or something it was always the school or something public where everybody could see.

Nevertheless, as I walked past the front door, I slid the deadbolt closed as silently as I could. At least this way the intruder would be hindered slightly in their escape.

I rounded the corner into the kitchen, where I immediately noticed the light on. I knew I didn’t turn it on, and I thought it was weird that someone sneaking into another person’s house would turn on the lights. Trying to breathe softer to make less noise, I peered into the room. I nearly dropped the lamp.

“Are you kiddin' me?” I hollered.

A squeak came out of my oldest sister’s mouth as she whipped around. Her eyes traveled up to the lamp, still poised to strike over my head. “What’s with the weapon?”

I lowered the lamp and set it on the counter. “I’m sorry, but usually when someone comes into my house at midnight, uninvited and unannounced, I panic.” I pursed my lips and threw a hand on my hip. I had officially turned on my mom mode. “Where on Earth were you?”

Veronica fiddled with the hem of her denim shorts and looked innocently at the ground. She had transformed from a sassy 16 year old to guilty 6 year old in a matter of two seconds.

“Hmmmm?”

“Okay, okay. I was at a party,” she spewed out quickly.

“Excuse me?” I almost laughed. “A party? It’s Tuesday!” My hands flung to my hair as I tried to wrap my mind around this. “Who? When? But I…? What?” My ability to form sentences had left me.

“Please don’t have a fit, Stasia,” she pleaded. “Look at me,” she said while doing a twirl. “I’m alive, I’m safe, and I didn’t break the law.”

“Except for underage drinking, I can smell it on you. Nice try.” I hopped up on the counter and sighed. “I thought I could trust you, Veronica.”

“You can! I swear! It’s just that…”

“It’s just nothing. What if your sisters needed something? What if something happened to you? You can’t just lie to me like that.”

“It wasn’t lying. I just never told you,” she said softly.

“Oh you did not just say that,” I growled. “That’s typical teenager response.”

“Well, what do you expect? I am a teenager.”

I sighed. That was true. “I know, I know. And I know that going to parties is a teenager thing to do. But you can’t just not tell me these things. Man. If you had come to me and just asked.”

“You wouldn’t have let me go! Be real, Stasia. You would have been all ’You don’t need to be doing that. You should be studying.’” she mimicked.

“I would not. I’m not a mother, have you forgotten? I’m only eighteen myself! I mean, yes, you don’t need to be doing that. It’s pointless. It’s ridiculous. But, honestly, do you not think that I want to go out and party and get wasted?”

I laughed, covering my face in my hands. I wiped them down my face and looked my sister in the eye. She remained silent.

“I have responsibilities that forbid me to from going out. You don’t. So if I had known where you were, known your homework was done and that you were going to be safe, I would have let you go. Maybe I would have gotten off work early to watch the girls. Or gotten Shake to come over for an hour or two. Things could have worked out.”

“Really?” she asked, suspiciously.

“Really really. Well, maybe not. There’s still the fact that it’s a Tuesday. Why on a Tuesday?”

“Trevor’s parents are out of town Monday through Thursday. Monday he got ready, Tuesday the party, and Wednesday clean up all before his folks get home.”

“Elaborate,” I said. “But also very clever. I’m impressed.”

She shrugged. “I thought so too.”

“Gosh, can you promise me that you will never throw a party if, for some God awful reason, I ever have to go away for a week?”

She laughed. ‘Totally. I would never do that to you.”

“Pinky swear you won’t do it?”

“Of course.”

The two of us linked pinky fingers and kissed our fists.

“I mean,” she continued, “it would be crazy difficult to pull it off. Especially with all our sisters. You know, making sure they are out of the house and safe and not being annoying and all.”

“That is true,” I smiled.

“It also just seems exhausting. That’s a lot of work and coordination and stress. I’m going to these parties and having a great time and leaving the ridiculousness to the host. I would hate to be in his position. All the work and stress and cleanup. Not worth it.”

I beamed at this and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Yes, remember that every time you are at a party. It’s not worth it,” I said, ruffling her hair. “Now tell me all about it! Did you see any new, cute guys? Any guy suddenly seem attractive? Any girl fights?”

“So I’m not in trouble?” she asked.

“Oh Veronica, of course you are. But I’m way too beat to come up with one now. It will come, don’t worry. In due time.”

She rolled her eyes, but smiled all the same. And for the next half hour we sat talking about everything that happened at the party. It was great to chat and bond and gossip with my sister like that. We rarely get such alone time, especially with the needs of all the others. But I really want her to have a good relationship with me, especially since she’s the oldest around the house most of the time. The more we’re able to openly communicate, the easier this whole ordeal will be on all of us.

It’s a tough balance for me trying to be respected as an authority figure, but also their best friend and sister. I was figuring it out though, even though it got tougher as they all got older. Hopefully I’m heading in the right direction.



Thursday afternoon I sat drinking a relaxing lemonade with Shake. Of course Shake really just wanted a beer, but Boss Man kept sneaking around to insure everything was okay for his son’s arrival. Boss Man wouldn’t exactly appreciate an underage boy consuming alcohol on his property. If that hadn’t been the case, both of us would be enjoying nice cold Budweiser.

Speaking of his son, though, he should be arriving any minute. We were waiting for it. We wanted to see that first look around the countryside face.

We were joking around and laughing on our respective tractors when we saw a dust cloud make its way toward the house. Between the dust I could see a dark blue Mercedes. I shook my head. Nobody drove cars like that in these parts.

“Hey. Here comes the spoiled little prince,” smirked Shake. “Welcome to Hillbilly Heaven, little prince.”

“This will be one helluva wake up call for him,” I said, eyes fixed on the car.

“Hey, ten bucks says he’ll cry.”

I looked over at Shake. We exchanged looks before laughing. It was funny now. Now we can laugh about it. But this time next week we’ll be wanting to punch his face in.

“Can you imagine being sent to all those fancy shmancy schools and getting kicked out? Man, if someone cared enough about me to spend all of that money I would be studying my butt off,” I mused, kicking my feet up on the wheel and leaning back. Man, I was such a dude.

“It’s values,” Shake said, taking a swig of lemonade. “Here in ‘Homa, we teach our kin manners and work ethics and stuff. But, hey, this little kid got taught not to kill the butler and to expect everybody to love him.”

“Plus the fact that he actually has two loving parents that care about him and his future,” I said. Shake and I exchanged a glance, a serious look for once. We had similar backgrounds and that’s how we both ended up here. It had brought us closer as friends, not just coworkers.

“Problem is, not nobody respects the son,” Shake continued. “They all respect HIM for his innovations and all, but nobody gives a rats ass about some guy whose daddy gives ‘im lots of cash to throw around. That usually makes him all rude because everybody is rude to him. It’s the only way he knows how to be.”

“There is one exception to that: good looks,” I pointed out. “Girls will be all over any bastard, even if they know he’s a bastard, if he is good looking.”

“Hey, ain’t that the truth. Why do you think I got so many cuties?” he winked.

“Oh, you mean all of those girls in band with you?” I joked.

“Hey, there are some hunnies there,” he defended.

I laughed. Shake was one year older than me. He graduated school last year and was too cool for college. Well not really. He didn’t go to help out his brother. I enjoyed how I could sit and shoot the bull with him so easily. Being so close in age, we were really able to relate to each other. He made it hard to not have romantic feelings for him. I knew it wasn’t going to happen, but a girl can dream right?

“Hey. He reached the house,” Shake pointed out.

At his words, I whipped my head around to the house. Sure enough, the Mercedes had pulled up the circle drive to the front door. We sat with bated breath. Don’t judge me on my choice of fun. I have no time for tv, no money for the movies, and no patience for my successful friends. This is all I have.

A tall, scrawny teen stepped out of the drivers seat. I gasped.

“Oh, big boy drives his own car? I thought that would be beneath him and he would need a driver everywhere he goes,” I said. Shake laughed, shaking his head. I smiled a little wider at his laugh.

He had on a pair of sunglasses, but took them off with a swipe of his hand. He casually glanced to the left and right. The two of us cracked up.

“What? Does he think somebody is filming him for a documentary or for a magazine or something?” I snorted. This was better entertainment than anything you can find on tv.

He proceeded to completely look at the surroundings. So basically he looked at the house, fields, and driveway.

He was so out of place. Everyone around here wore jeans, flannel, t-shirts, and things of that sort. This lovely young man was wearing a dark polo underneath an argyle sweater vest. He donned tan khakis and some kind of dress shoe. I hoped he had some other clothes for farming.

His jaw was clenched and he looked extremely ticked off. I tried to stifle my laughter. Although we were a good ways away, I knew I could laugh so loudly that he would be able to hear me. Instead, I fell over off the tractor in a fit of silent laughter.

“Hey. Woah. You alright?” Shake choked out through his laughter. The way it is on paper, this doesn’t sound all that hilarious. But if you could see this kid, you would be on your knees.

“Fine, fine,” I breathed.

My eyes had squeezed shut from my laughter. My sides were starting to hurt. I didn’t even know why I was laughing anymore. It just felt good.

I managed to crack my eyes open. The son had circled the car and was pulling out his luggage. I counted as he went. One, two, three, four, five suitcases. Then he swung out one, two, three dufflebags. Finally he revealed a backpack that he slung over his shoulder and a laptop case in his hand. He walked –no sauntered, over to the front door and poked his head in. I saw him holler something and seven workers filed out to grab his belongings for him.

I was on the ground, astounded. He just unpacked more suitcases then would hold all the clothes I’ve had in my lifetime. And he seemed unfazed by it. He looked almost bored. My laughter had changed to disgust. I kept thinking what an ungrateful prat he must be. He has probably been to some of the finest, most prestigious schools in the world and I was still probably smarter than him. Not algebra and physics-wise, but definitely respect, hard work, and moral-wise. He would never do well in a workplace setting. He would be too pompous and lazy.

It disgusted and disappointed me how much rich kids take for granted. They had everything in the world, but still weren’t happy. They needed more, and more, and more. They needed to be doted on twenty-four-seven or else they wouldn’t know what to do.

I thought they were this way because they didn’t ever have to work to get where they are. Their parents did. One of their parents most likely went through a lot to be where they are. But for their children, well they just had the world on their side when they were conceived. Nothing special. It was like winning the lottery.

I knew I would shape this kid up. We may be the same age, but I had been here longer. He needed a good back breaking, like taming a wild horse. I would have to use the same tactics.

“Hey. Crap. He’s looking over this way,” Shake said, starting up his tractor and speeding off. Well, he went as fast as the tractor would go without being suspicious.

I lifted myself up from the ground and threw a dirty look the son’s way. I no longer found him amusing. Only pathetic. I jumped back up on the tractor and followed Shake to the field we were supposed to be on.