Fastest Girl In Town

On Monday, I was alone for an hour with Son Boy. Boss Man told Marty not to come in until 8:00, when his son was supposed to leave for school. Son Boy was supposed to do all of Marty’s tasks for the hour. However, Son Boy decided he was going to do something different.

“So, what’s your middle name?” he asked, following me around.

“Monkey,” I replied.

“How many siblings do you have?”

“Eight billion,” I spat, trying to ignore him.

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Walrus, okay? Can you please do your tasks? Do you realize that the less work you do requires Marty and I to work doubly hard when you leave?” I groaned. He had been following me around for the past fifteen minutes asking me questions. The amazing, invincible feeling I spent the last day in thanks to Shake had been crushed in mere minutes thanks to Son Boy.

“When is your birthday?”

“February 31.”

“That’s impossible. I believe you are trying to get me to go away,” he sang.

“No,” I said sarcastically. “Why in the world would I do that?”

“Hey,” he said, grabbing my arm. “Stop that, okay? I’m just trying to get to know you.”

I shrugged him off. “Here’s a little tip. If you were, I don’t know, actually working and trying to get to know me, maybe I wouldn’t be so hostile.”

“You were nice to me when I showed up,” he said.

“Because just looking at you I was more happy than I was the other day,” I said.

“Why?”

I smirked. “You’re choice of clothes for the day.”

Son Boy looked down at his body. He had on a pair of jeans, something I was skeptical he even owned. He also wore an old, worn out t-shirt and sneakers. His hair wasn’t all combed over and neatly done either. He looked acceptable considering his surroundings. He was nowhere near looking like a native, but at least he tried to blend in for the time being.

“You think I look good in this?” he asked, appalled. He looked down at the jeans and tried to flatten them out. He then fiddled with his shirt, looking as if he was going to tuck it in.

I reached over and grabbed his arms, making him stop. “Yeah, for working out on the farm you look perfect,” I said with a roll of my eyes.

“I look atrocious! I’m all disheveled. This is not acceptable for anywhere!”

I snorted. “You need to relax a tad. Honestly. Just so you know, that,” I said, gesturing to his body, “is how everybody ‘round here dresses. See what I’m wearing?”

I looked down at myself. I was wearing a pair of old cutoffs and one of my sister’s gymnastic t-shirts. I had my cowboy boots on and my hair nonchalantly thrown back in a bun.

“This is what I wear every day when I come here. Actually, this is even a step up. I rarely wear jean shorts. I only wear them when I know that I’m going to be riding with Shake. And even then sometimes I just bring them and throw them on when we go riding.”

He looked me over with a disgusted look. This look was almost identical to the look he first gave me last week.

“Listen,” I continued. “Where you are now is a lot different from where you’ve ever been before. Nobody here gives two thoughts to what you’re wearing. Deal with it.”

I walked off. I had learned that I really liked walking away from him because 1. It gave me power and 2. It really ticked him off.

He jogged up behind me. “I really wish you would stop doing that,” he growled, grabbing my upper arm again.

“And I really wish you weren’t here. We don’t always get what we want,” I sneered, tugging my arm away from him once more.

“So hostile. Man, what bastard messed with you?” he mumbled.

“My father,” I answered, honestly for once.

“Not a pretty background?” he asked.

“Maybe, maybe not. Listen, I’m not doing this now. Right now is a time for working. And you only have another half an hour. So if you could please get on with what you are supposed to be doing?”

“Could you help me?” he asked quietly.

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t know anything about this. Like, doing the simple stuff that you have probably done since you were little. I have no idea how to get the eggs or milk a cow or whatever it is you do.”

I buried my face in my hands, frustrated. “Seriously? I can’t babysit you, I have my own jobs to do. I thought maybe you would have some kind of knowledge on some things!”

“Well I don’t!” he growled, getting angry at my frustration.

“I can’t just sit here and teach you everything there is to know about being out here. I have tasks to complete. It took me years to be where I am now, okay? I can’t teach you in an hour.”

“I have to do something,” he shrugged. “I just don’t know what.”

“Fine. Something easy for you to do. Go over to that dead, fallen over tree over there and chop it up real nice like. I have to do that later anyway. Grab that ax from the side of the barn and get to work,” I said, waving him off.

He said something under his breath that I didn’t quite catch and truly didn’t care about. He would survive just throwing an ax at some bark. What was the worst that could happen?

Well, I didn’t expect the worst to actually happen. The next thing I knew I was rushing Son Boy off to the emergency room. No, he didn’t cut off a limb or anything. The first time he went to bring the ax over his head, he became top heavy and ended up not being able to control the rest of the situation from there. As he swung it down, he couldn’t keep track of the ax. He fell forward with it, hit his head hard on the tree and gashed open his forearm with the ax. I couldn’t believe he was that weak. I mean, no offense or anything, but I could lift that ax when I was twelve. I really needed to work on his upper body strength.

But this was not the time. Boss Man had already left for the day for a meeting in some distant city with important clients. I was the only one who had access to a vehicle at the time, so I drove him to the Emergency Room.

“Okay, I’m going to need the essentials from you. Starting off with your actual name,” I said, speeding off toward the nearest hospital. I knew that it would take us at least another twenty minutes to get there, even if I sped down every road. “And keep applying pressure to that wound! You’re going to pass out if you don’t!” I reprimanded.

“My name is Tucker. Tucker Neil Trunchburg. I am eighteen. My blood type is AB-. I have never been admitted to a hospital before and this is completely freaking me out,” he yelled.

“Please relax,” I pleaded with him. “You’ll be fine. I’ve been here so many times with my family. I know the routine. Just please take deep breaths and try to calm yourself down. It will be okay.” I reached over with one hand and pressed down on his damaged arm. He winced and tried to pull away. “That is the kind of pressure you need on it.”

“But that stings.”

“But that’s the only way you are going to get the blood to start clotting,” I said, annoyed. “Listen to me, I’m smarter than you.”

“No you’re not. I’ve heard about you Miss Third Grade drop out,” he sneered.

“Oh yeah? Have you heard about how Miss Third Grade drop out left school to support her family at age eight? And that she has kept steady jobs since then? And that she may not be technically enrolled in a school but teaches herself different subjects every night from her sisters’ and friends’ textbooks? And that maybe, just maybe, she had learned some things from basically raising her sisters? Yeah, I bet you didn’t hear that side of the story.”

“Why doesn’t your mom do all of this?” he said, sounding irritated that I had told him off.

“None of your business,” I replied. “I’ve know you like two days, I’m not going to go pouring out my family history on you.”

“Fine, be that way,” he grumbled, pressing down on his arm.

“I will be.” He was really getting on my last nerve. I couldn’t believe how gosh darn infuriating he could be even when he was in pain and on the way to the hospital. I was helping him out, shouldn’t he at least be a little kinder to me? He obviously was not raised the same way most of us were.

The rest of the ride was silent except for a few winces here and there from Tucker. It was weird referring to him as that. I almost wanted to keep calling him Son Boy; it was just easier that way. He looked more like a Son Boy too with his straw colored hair and perfect posture. He was just too sophisticated.

I parked in the parking lot and brought Tucker into the ER. I sat him down in one of the chairs because he was in too much shock and too nervous to properly articulate what had happened.

“Anastasia, nice to see you again,” greeted Isabella, the receptionist. She was a kind looking and kind-hearted soul in her mid-fifties. She had the sweetest smile, perfect for working in the ER. When people are in hysterics for whatever reason they just had to look at Isabella’s smile and they would settle down immediately. She had that nice Southern charm about her. “Why is it that you are always healthy and fit? You are never in here for your own reasons.”

“Oh Bella, if I were in the hospital who would run the town in my absence?” I joked, leaning up against the counter.

“I don’t think anybody could fill your shoes,” she laughed. “So, who is in for treatment now? I don’t recognize this one!”

“That is because he is new to town. This is Boss Man’s son, Tucker. He got himself into a bit of a situation back at the farm,” I said with a grimace. “He’s not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed. And I guess chopping wood is too much for a city boy to handle. He’s gonna need stitches in his arm and his head should be looked at. He banged it up pretty bad.”

Bella looked over my shoulder at him. “Mmm. He’s not all that bad looking,” she purred.

“Bella!” I scolded, my eyes widening. “No!”

“Sorry, hun. I can’t help it. I have eyes. I just think he has some very nice features,” she said, still looking in his direction.

“Can we just get the paperwork?” I sighed.

“Of course, dearest. Here you go. Get him to fill out his insurance everything and we’ll get back to you.”

I took the clipboard and headed back to where Tucker was sitting. He had gashed open his right arm and was right handed, so I had him dictate his information to me. It was odd. Earlier just that morning he was following me around asking me some of these same questions. Now it was my turn and this time, he couldn’t lie.

Once we had all of the paperwork filled out, I brought the clipboard back over to Bella. She smiled sweetly at me in return.

“Hey Bella? Can I borrow your cell phone?” I asked.

“Didn’t bring yours?” she smiled knowingly.

I looked over at her sheepishly. “You know I hate that thing and it’s never on my mind to bring it. What can I say? I’m living in the wrong era.”

She just shook her head and handed me her phone. That’s what it was like around here. You just trusted people with things like your cell phone. You didn’t think they were going to walk away with it.

I took her phone and called Marty to let him know why we weren’t there. He was already at the farm and I felt awful. He was going to have to pick up the slack that both Tucker and I didn’t manage to finish. I apologized over and over to him, but he just brushed it off. He said that I had done enough over the years for him and this was his way of making it up to me.

Next I called Shake just for the heck of it. I thought, since he had actually met Tucker before, he would find the whole ordeal amusing. Which he did. I think he actually fell over laughing when I reached him.

“You cannot be serious?” he chocked out over the phone. I looked down at the floor, trying not to laugh along with him. I didn’t want Tucker to feel even worse.

“As a heart attack,” I shrugged, tugging on my bottom lip. “I’m not sure how it happened, but I looked over and saw him keeled over on the ground. I was shocked, to say the least.”

“Well I’ll let you get back to your hot mess,” he chuckled. “Wouldn’t want to keep you from the fun times.”

“Stop torturing me!” I whined.

“Can’t help it. You are just so fun to mess with,” Shake said. “See you later, Stasia.”

“Back at you, Shake.” I hung up and gave the phone back to Bella. I then sat back down next to Tucker and started tapping my fingers nervously on the armrest.

Tucker just sat there, staring blankly at the floor in front of him. I wasn’t sure if he was scared, nervous, or in that much pain.

“You doing alright?” I asked him, nudging his side lightly.

“He’s going to kill me?”

“Who? The doctor?” I asked.

“No, not the doctor you idiot,” he mumbled. “My father. He’s going to kill me. My first day out on the farm and I end up in the freaking hospital. He won’t take that well.”

“Don’t worry about that. If he is going to kill anybody it is going to be me. The whole wood cutting thing was something that I was designated to do, and then I passed off on you. You had your own tasks, I should have let you do them.”

“But I couldn’t do them, that’s the problem,” Tucker sighed. “This is so humiliating.”

“What is?”

Tucker buried his head in his hands. He mumbled something into his palms that I couldn’t decipher. “Say again?” I asked.

He brought his hands down and refused to look at me. “A girl is better than me at man things. Do you know what that makes me look like?”

“Yes, I do,” I said with a small smile. “I’ve been doing it for years now and I have shown up many a boy in my day. But do you know what makes those guys truly men?” Tucker just stared at me, not really caring about the answer. “I’m going to tell you even though you don’t care. What makes them men is that they nobly stood tall, even though they lost to a girl. They were even manlier because they admitted their defeat.”

“That’s bull,” he spat.

“To you, it is. To me, it isn’t. And to most girls, it isn’t. To most girls, when a guy knows that he has lost and doesn’t put up a fight, it’s hot.”

“Really?”

I just shrugged. “You’ll never know because you are too much of a girl to be that way.”

Before Tucker could come back with a snotty remark, he was called back into the ER. I smiled sweetly and waved him off. He looked confused.

“Aren’t you coming?”

“You’re a big boy, aren’t you? You can go back by yourself. I’m not your mother,” I said.

“Please come back with me,” he said with wide eyes. My sisters could get me with those eyes, but I was going to be strong with his.

“No,” I said sternly.

“Please.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“What part of no do you not understand? The N or the O?”

Still he just repeated that one word. “Please.”

Darn him and his wide, adorable eyes. I was going to regret going back with him and playing mommy, I just knew it.