Fastest Girl In Town

I came home exhausted that night. I stayed late in hopes that I could fix some things up for tomorrow when Boss Man would bring around Son Boy. However, I just ended up making a mess by knocking over some tools that scared some animals and caused a small avalanche. I was ready to take a long shower and sleep for a year.

But when I stepped inside, a different disaster was in the making.

“I don’t care, you little tramp! No! Don’t try to run. You ain’t going nowhere. You tell me right now what you did with my lipstick,” my mother yelled at Gabriella. She had a fist full of Gabriella’s golden locks and had just slapped her across the face. “Speak,” she commanded. Gabriella remained silent, fighting back tears.

“Mama!” I hollered. Gabriella turned to me, relief pouring out of her eyes with her tears. “Let her go.”

Mama glared at me. “You have no right to tell me what to do. I am your superior. And this tramp wronged me.”

That was Mama’s favorite word, tramp. She called everyone a tramp, even men. It was as if she did not know any other derogatory words.

“Yes, well I bring in all of our income,” I replied, walking over to release Gabriella’s hair. “Now, let go.”

Mama huffed and unclenched her fist. “I’ll get you next time,” she growled at her youngest daughter.

I pulled my sister behind me. “No, you won’t. Mama, you can’t hurt your children. It’s called child abuse.”

“I can do whatever I damn well please. I am a grown woman, goddamnit!”

“Gabriella, please go upstairs,” I whispered kindly to her. She scurried off, tears still streaming down her cheeks.

“What’s going on, Mama?” I sighed, walking to the fridge and pulling out a Coke.

“Little tramp stole my lipstick,” she spat.

“Do you have proof?”

“No. But I can’t find it anywhere.”

“Give me a second.” I left my Coke on the table and went up to Mama’s room. I crossed over into her bathroom and scanned the countertop. No lipstick. I thought of the several scenarios that might have occurred with Mama. I got down on my hands and knees and peered underneath the counter. There it was. Her tube of lipstick. I sighed, grabbed it, and brought it back downstairs. I placed it on the table and grabbed my Coke.

“Under your counter,” I said. Somehow, with Mama, it was always that simple.

Mama just stared at it. She didn’t move. “I’m sorry,” she said finally. There was no emotion, just words. She didn’t feel it but knew it was her obligation to say those words.

“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.” I kicked my feet up on the table and sipped my Coke.

Mama looked at me sheepishly. I knew she didn’t want to show her weakness or mistakes to anyone else. She wasn’t going to be admitting her mistake to Gabriella anytime soon.

“Fine, I’ll pass it on,” I caved after she sat there for a few minutes just staring at the tube of lipstick.

“Thank you darlin’.” With that she retreated to her bedroom, lipstick clutched in her fist. Well, it was better that tube than Gabriella’s hair.

I just shook my head and walked upstairs to check on Gabriella. These spells always did a wonder on her.

“Gabriella?” I called through her bedroom door.

“Come in,” she sniffled.

I opened the door and saw her sprawled across her bed, face buried in her pillow. I saw down and stroked her hair. I know her scalp was probably throbbing like crazy.

“Show me?” I asked quietly.

She sat up. I immediately saw the red slap mark on her right cheek. Mama was left handed. Her hair was slightly teased from where Mama had held her. Gabriella also stuck out her right arm to show a bruised forearm in the shape of fingers. That must have been where Mama grabbed her first before going to the hair.

“It’s all your fault,” she grumbled.

“How so?” I asked calmly, bringing her into my chest.

“You were late coming home. If you had been on time you could have stopped her or something.”

“I’m sorry, sweetie. But Boss Man is bringing his son ‘round tomorrow to meet me. I had to do some extra work. Mama really didn’t mean it. I promise, she won’t do it again.”

“Yes she will. She’s a bitch.”

Hearing my nine year old sister utter that word took me off guard. I brought her out from my chest to arms length. “What in the -? Gabriella where did you learn that word?”

“I have older sisters, and I go to school, and the bus is one of the best places to learn words,” she shrugged.

“Never, ever say that word again. Especially about Mama. She may lose her temper sometimes but she still loves us and she did birth you. That word is foul, never say it ever again.”

“Whatever.”

“Not whatever. Yes, Anastasia.” Oh Lord, I sounded like a mother.

“Yes Anastasia.”

“Good, now go and get your sisters. We’re going out tonight. I don’t feel like cooking.”

“To Sonic?” Her mood had lifted considerably at this.

“Sure, wherever. Hurry up and get them. It’s a school night and I have a big day tomorrow.”

Gabriella jumped up and ran into the hallway. She spun around, not sure what room to go to first. I chuckled; she was adorable.

So now you’ve all met my Mama. Not the best introduction, but it sums up her life pretty well.

Once our father left she became bitter and resentful of all her life choices. She couldn’t hold a job, a boyfriend, or anything. When I quit school to work it was to help Mama with the bills. I never thought I would be the sole provider for the family.

Nor did I think my mother would hide away from the world in her bedroom for days on end. She only appeared to yell at someone for something. I didn’t make her breakfast; I didn’t even know when she woke up. She also never joined us for dinner. We had all grown accustomed to it.

Just as we all had grown accustomed to me being Mama Part II. We all knew that I was the parent in the house. I went to parent/teacher conferences for all of my sisters, class meetings, and class parties. I attended each dance, each play, and each open presentation. All of the teachers understood that and greeted me with open arms.

I did get one thing out of all of this. I know what it will be like to have children. And I know now for sure that I am not having any more than two children. They were a lot of work. I basically raised Gabriella. That’s why she identified with me more than with Mama. Gabriella was only one year old when our father left. She was three when Mama went crazy. I feel bad that she doesn’t know anything about a good, functional relationship or family.



The next morning I woke up, made breakfast, and left before any of my sisters even stirred. I needed to get ahead of schedule. There was no telling how long this meeting with Son Boy would take. I didn’t know if he wanted a tour of some sort, even though there wasn’t much to tour. I also didn’t know what time he would be arriving, whether morning or afternoon. I was wagering a guess at afternoon; Mr. Boy would probably want to sleep in.

And I was right. It was three o’clock and Shake and I were out riding. Part of our job was to keep the animals healthy and in shape, so we went riding three times a week. I enjoyed it because I could wear my riding boots, my favorite. Plus it was just fun to hang out with Shake.

The horses had run their full when we got up to the top of the mountain. It was a hot and dry day, so it was understandable. Shake and I were walking arm in arm, the horses following.

“Hey. You excited for Son Boy?” Shake asked, nudging me with his elbow. I laughed. It was funny how he had picked up the son’s nickname I had accidentally let slip.

“Do we even know his real name?” I asked.

“Does it matter? Just call him sir or sumin,” he shrugged.

“It’s weird because we’re the same age,” I said, shaking as if I had got a shiver or something.

“Hey. We’re round the same age. Is it weird between us?” he asked, bumping me with his hip.

“Never weird, just awkward,” I joked.

“Good, then things are just the way I like em,” he said, pumping his fist.

“What? Sloppy and strange? You band geeks, nobody will ever understand y’all.”

“Hey-“ he started, but got interrupted.

“Miss Edwards,” called out Boss Man. I saw him down the mountain, his son right next to him. Son Boy had the decency to slip on some sneakers today, but was still dressed completely wrong.

“Sir?” I called back.

“Kindly make your way down here.”

I sighed and looked over at Shake. “Go on, I’ll take back Voughn,” he said, taking the horse’s reigns from me.

“Do I have to?” I whined.

“Yes, ma’am,” he grinned. He pulled me into a one armed hug. “Hey, you’ll be fine, I promise.”

“You better be right,” I groaned. I then took off in a jog, speeding up the beginning of my doom.

When I reached the bottom of the mountain, and Boss Man and Son Boy, I was noticeably sweating through the flannel and tank top I had on. I tugged off the flannel and tied it around my waist.

“Hello, sir,” I said smiling at Boss Man. I then forced a smile over at Son Boy and held out my hand. “Hi, how you doing?” The words were forced out of my mouth as I was attempting not to grimace. Couldn’t he have worn something other than a pastel colored polo? It was making me even hotter.

Son Boy just looked at me. I saw him look me over once, not trying to cover it up. He was blatantly staring over me. A sneer grew on his face as his eyes took me in. I wasn’t that ugly. What a prick.

It took all of me not to roll my eyes. “I ain’t gonna bite you or nothin’. My name’s Anastasia,” I said, moving my hand again for him to take it.

He tenderly took my hand and quickly pulled away. It was the girliest handshake I had ever received, even from girls. This time, I really did roll my eyes.

“Well,” Boss Man said, rubbing his hands together, “I’ll leave you two to it. Miss Edwards, if you could give him a quick tour and an overview of what goes on around here on a daily basis. Take your time, no need to rush.”

Boss Man practically ran away after that, leaving no time for a, “yes sir,” or anything. It was apparent that he was trying to pass his son off on somebody else. Lucky me.

“Gotta name?” I asked, walking away from him and toward the barn. The polite pretense left along with Boss Man’s presence.

“Yup,” he said, following me.

“Gonna say it?”

“Maybe.”

“Whatever, Son Boy,” I murmured, walking a little faster and shoving my hands into my pockets.

“Son Boy?” he asked, coming up next to me.

“You won’t say your real name,” I shrugged. “Your dad is known around here as Boss Man, of course not to his face. But you,” I said looking at him up and down, “I don’t really mind offendin’ you.”

“Thank, I appreciate it.”

“No problem,” I said, glancing over at him. I cringed. That stupid polo. “Do me a favor? Put this on?” I asked, taking the flannel from around my waist. “You are annoying the world out me.”

He just stared at the material in my hand.

“For Lord’s sake, it’s just a flannel!” I groaned.

“Yeah, it’s a chick’s shirt. What kind of fruity guy do you think I am?”

I wasn’t even going to mention that the soft color of his shirt was more girly than any article of clothing I owned. “Ugh, it’s Shake’s. It’s a guy’s. He leant it to me a few weeks ago and I haven’t gotten around to giving it back. Take it.”

“Shake?”

“Another hand on the farm. He’s still bringing the horses round from the mountain.”

“Shake and Anastasia? What are these names?”

“What, too modern?” I said sarcastically. “My parents wanted a unique name for their first child. My sisters are all nice, Christian names. Not that any of that is your business.”

“And Shake?”

“Ain’t his real name, Smarts. There’s round twenty John’s per square mile here. He wanted something a bit different. So, you gonna change or what?”

Son Boy exhaled before snatching the flannel from my hand. He slipped off his polo and on Shake’s shirt. I got a nice look at his body when he was buttoning up the shirt. He was okay. But I preferred a nice tan and toned cowboy myself.

“Sneaking a peek?” Shake whispered in my ear.

“Damnit!” I yelled, jumping. “Don’t scare me like that,” I scolded, slapping his arm.

“You love it,” he winked, slinging an arm around my shoulder. “How’s it going? I’m Shake,” he said to Son Boy.

“Son Boy,” he replied, smirking over at me. He didn’t look good smirking. I hoped he didn’t do it again.

Shake looked confused. “What?”

“He’s being a jerk, keepin his name a secret,” I explained.

“Who keeps their name a secret other than hookers and convicts? You ain’t one of them, are you?”

“I most certainly am not,” he said, appalled.

Shake and I laughed. He even sounded out of place.

“Okay cowboy,” Shake said, putting his hands up in surrender. “Easy, we’re only playing.”

“Can’t we just get on with this?” Son Boy asked, almost in a whining voice.

“Alright, alright. Cool yourself,” I said with another roll of my eyes. I couldn’t help rolling my eyes. It’s a nasty habit. I turned around, telling Son Boy to follow. I brushed by Shake’s shoulder and whispered at him, “Please save me.”

“Not when you are having this much fun,” he winked, slapping my butt as I walked by.

I turned around and stuck my tongue out at him. I walked away, not really caring if Son Boy followed. After staring another minute between Shake and I, he ran up to catch me.

“So how long have you two been going out?” he asked.

I paused and pretended to think that one over. “Let me think. December, January to June makes six plus the summer months, minus August. That’s a total of zero months, zero weeks, and zero days,” I said proudly.

“Smart ass,” he mumbled.

“I’m sorry. Did you want the hours and minutes too?”

“Listen,” he yelled, grabbing my upper arm. “You will respect me, I am your boss’s son, you know that man who gives you money. From the way I see it, I am the superior.”

“Oh yeah?” I growled back. I grabbed his arm that wasn’t clutching mine and twisted it behind his back. He let go of me, trying to shake off my grip. “From what I see, your father is not too pleased with you. It also seems that you have lost all things good. It seems I know how it goes round here and your dad respects me. So maybe you shouldn’t get on my bad side.”

I let him go and walked straight away from him.

“Stop doing that,” he whined, jogging to catch up with me.

“Doing what?”

“Walking away from me like you are so cool or something.”

“Oh, but I am. Why should I pretend to be something I’m not?” I asked.

“You are so full of it.”

“Only 100% of me. Don’t worry,” I smiled sweetly, batting my eyelashes at him. I then walked off.

This was how it was going to be, I guessed. Stubborn vs. Stubborn in the rink together. I couldn’t wait until Monday.