Portrait of a Girl

We drove out of town on the winding state road. The world was becoming beautiful again. The trees had began to bud, and it gave the world of brown a hew of lime greenness. I sat in silence as we drove almost a half hour to the next closest town a county over. It wasn’t much bigger than the one I had grown up in. We pulled up in front of a dilapidated white building , paint peeling and gutters hanging. A goodl ol’ boy leaned against his beat up ford truck spitting brown tar occasionally while he surveyed us.

“Here?” I asked skeptically.

“Yup,” She said grabbing her bag and putting her hand on the door handle, “Stay here and try not to look suspicious or underage.”

“Oh and, call your mommy and tell her you won’t be home tonight,” She head popping her head back in the car before slamming it shut.

I watched her walk in to the store and I head the tiny bell announcing a customers arrival tinkle. I felt ‘Bubba’s’ eyes boring into me. Was this going to end up like Deliverance? I looked down and out my window trying to avoid making eye contact. I dialed home as I watched her bounce between isles and in and out of sight. The phone rang, and I waited for my mother’s voice to answer, “Hello?” My mother finally answered.

“Hi, mom its me,” I said as I watched Lillian walk up to the counter arms filled with bottles.

“Having fun yet?” My mother asked. I could hear the mischievous smile in her voice.

“Uhh… Sort of I guess. I just wanted to tell you I won’t be home tonight.”

“Okay, be safe, and have fun!”

“You aren’t like going to argue?”

“No, you are an adult I can’t really stop you.”

“Okay… Well bye?”

“Love you, bye,” and the phone went dead. For some reason I felt cheated that my mother hadn’t put up a fight. I lifted my eyes from my phone ad saw Lillian leaned over the counter, accentuating her cleavage. She smiled and laughed her tossed her long hair over her shoulder. She was clearly flirting. And apparently her flirtation along with her fake id had worked. She came bouncing back in to the car a huge smile on her face. She was quite pretty, with her sweet round face and deep dimples on her cheeks that gave her a air of childish innocence. I wasn’t the only one watching her. ‘Bubba’ who was still filling up his truck on what must be the slowest gas pumps in the world, looked her up and down. Lillian must have realized what I was staring at.

She turned around and her smile dropped, “In your dreams, ‘Billy Bob.'”

“I meant no offence, “ he said with a tobacco smile, “Admirin’ God’s work,” You know that saying, ‘It’s better to remain silent and appear dumb than to open your mouth and remove all doubt’? Yeah I don’t think he had ever heard that.

“I, nor any other woman, is a piece of meet for you to ‘check out’ like in a grocery store. Learn some manners and respect.” She wretched open the car door and pushed the back of booze into my arms and she tossed the case of beer in to the back seat.

“We’re not talking about it. Unless you think that what I did was out of line. In which case I want you out of my car.”

Anxious to change the subject, I asked, “So since you had a fake id why did you need me to buy your cigarettes?”

“Think of it as an exercise in trust, “ She said with a wink.

I chuckled as we took a left heading out of town. It wasn’t long before we had turned onto a narrow gravel road, which wound around the hills and ‘hollers’ of the foothills of the Appalachians. The drive really was quite pretty. With out summer foliage on you could see the sharp rock out cropping’s that hung precariously off the sides of hills. You could see all the way to the bottom of ravines too and at the bottom bubbling creeks… (cricks in local spoken vernacular, including for myself ) that had for millennia forged their way through the rocks, few things could be more stubborn.

“That was really beautiful, and true,” Lillian said looking over at me.

“How much of that did I say out loud?” I said panicking.

“Just the bit about cricks and the stubbornness of water. You know, if someone ever writes me in a book, that would be a great simile to describe me, ‘She was as stubborn as water. Like the Colorado River wearing though rock to create the Grand Canyon. She would always have her way.’ ”
I suppose I could have found a better place to throw this in, and, make myself seem like a painter of words, but those words were hers and I think she deserves the credit for them.

We soon turned up a steep drive way. I was surprised to see that it was paved. The drive was lined with pine trees as it wound up a tall hill. Once the path plateaued I realized we were in a clearing surrounded strikingly tall and imposing pines. The sky was that delicate twilight balance between blue and pink and the first stars had began to appear and I couldn’t help admire how beautiful it was circled by a wreath pines.

“Have you ever been drunk?” Lillian asked looking over at me.

“Um, no, well maybe a little tipsy, when Rod, Ally, and I stole our dads beers and met at the park, to drink them, when we were in 8th grade,” Now that I remembered that shenanigan I was more sure I was I just got light headed and sick than drunk.

“Okay well, don’t feel like you need to keep up or prove something, all that will happen is you will get belligerent, and you will puke and you will feel like shit tomorrow and you will have made an ass out of yourself and you don’t want to that.”

“Okay,” I said awkwardly.

“Have you ever smoked pot?”

“No defiantly, haven’t done that.”

“Okay, well I would recommend not doing both for the first time in the same night.”

“Why?”

“Because I think you should experience them one of a time, but that’s my opinion. And I don’t want you freak out and make an ass out of yourself.”

“Why did you invite me, if all I’m gonna do is make an ass out of myself?”

“ I don’t think you are for certain going to make an ass out of yourself. I want you to have a good time, that way it won’t color your experiences with booze for the rest of your life.”

“That’s considerate.”

“I’m just a regular sweet heart,” Lillian said as the drive way curved to the left. Then I saw this mythical cabin. It was what one would consider a stereotypical hunting cabin. It was constructed of large pine logs, and on the front outstretched a large and welcoming covered porch.

“ You coming?” she asked as she pulled the case of beer and a purple paisley 21 bag. Allow me to explain how I knew the brand of her bag. My mother and grandmothers are obsessed and those bags may have been their Christmas presents from me for the last couple of years.

“Isn’t that bag a little main stream for your?” I asked her sarcastically.

“I’m not a fucking hipster” She laughed.

“Oh,” I said chuckling too.

She unlocked the door and I followed her in. To my left was a small kitchen, with a bar surrounding it with three stools pushed in. The kitchen seemed to be well furnished with stainless steel appliances. Lillian walked around the bar to put the case of beer into the refrigerator. “The bathroom is through there,” She said pointing to an open door at the back of the kitchen.

To the right of the door was a living room, a large flat screen tv adjacent to the cobble stone fire place. An old wooden rocking chair sat next to the leather sectional, “Come on, I’ll show you the other rooms,” She said taking me by the hand, before realizing what she had done and dropping, it awkwardly. We walked down a short hall, there was a door to my left and right along with one straight ahead.

“This is typically where Cara, and Liz crash,” She said opening the door to the right of us, it was a small room, with two twin beds next to each other. The were covered with matching vibrant quilts and at the feet were matching crocheted afghans, “ My grandmother made those,” She wistfully said turning away.

“Oh cool,” I said, “She’s really talented!” I added noticing the tint of sadness wash over her face.

“Was. Over here,” she said opening the door across from the one we had just closed, “Is where you will prolly crash,” She opened the door the room was about the same size as the other, but it was furnished with two bunk beds covered in the same manner as the other room, “Then,” she said turning to the door at the end of the hall, “This the loft,” She said heading up a narrow set of stairs, “This is where I sleep. But I guess Its not really a loft.” And as soon as we crested the stairs I saw why. The room was most certainly the largest. The south side window looked out on the forest. The bed that faced the window was a large king size also draped with a large quilt. The furnishings in here were also rustic but delicate. Just then I heard the sound of cars stopping. We both walked to the window and looked out, “Looks like the party is here,” She said with a smile before turning and heading down the stairs. I swallowed had and took a deep breath and hoped to prepare myself for the events that were about to conspire.