Red Helmet by Homer Hickam

instead.
    Rhonda climbed into her truck. The window was rolled down and she let her arm hang out. “Squirrels ate through the lines a few days ago. Taking awhile to get up some new ones.”
    â€œI need to call my father,” Song said.
    â€œMaybe they’ll be up by tomorrow morning.”
    Song was shocked. “Tomorrow? I have to wait until then?”
    Rhonda shrugged. “That’s Highcoal for you. Patience is a virtue around here. Anyway, here’s the drill. Cable gets a covered dish every evening. Usually he picks it up, but while you’re here, I’ll bring supper by since he’ll probably be home later than you’d care to eat. Just put the dishes in the sink when you’re done. Rosita will be over every day to wash up and clean the house. She’s my maid and yours too. Oh yeah, Old Roy—the gardener and fix-it man—will be by once a week to mow the lawn, spruce up the yard, do anything you want him to do. Like I said, we’re Cable enablers. Man works hard for us, for the whole town. He ain’t got time for all this silly domestic stuff.” She cocked her head. “Say, I’ve been listening to your voice. It’s a good one. Do you sing, by chance?”
    â€œI was in my high school choir. Why?”
    â€œYou’re a soprano, I think. We need a soprano in the church choir. If you lived here, I’d see if I could get you in. Being a member of the choir is a pretty big deal.”
    â€œI don’t go to church,” Song replied.
    Rhonda’s mouth fell open in astonishment. “You got to go to church, honey. It’s the place where everybody meets and greets.”
    â€œI’m an agnostic,” Song said. “It would be wrong for me to pretend otherwise.”
    â€œA what-nostic?” Rhonda laughed. “Oh, I get it. Honey, there ain’t no such thing around here. Don’t much matter what particular religion you are, or even if you ain’t got no religion at all, best to get close to God in these old hills. It’s His country, make no mistake, but that don’t mean there’s an end to trouble. Some folks think the Lord likes to throw fuel on the fire just to see how we’ll do. Anyway, give it some thought. You want to meet people, it’s the only way. Gotta go.”
    Song touched her stiff hair. “One more thing. What’s wrong with the water? I took a bath and came out dirtier than when I got in.”
    â€œWater around here is hard as a rock,” Rhonda explained. “Full of minerals like limestone and I don’t know what all. Shampoo don’t have a chance in that soup.”
    â€œIt was cold too.”
    â€œI’m not surprised. Cable takes his baths at the mine so he don’t much care about what comes out of the spigot here. Let’s do this. I’ll tell Old Roy to install you a new hot water heater and a water softener, and put it on Cable’s bill. You just consider it done.”
    â€œThank you,” Song said.
    â€œYou bet, honey. I can enable you as well as I can enable Cable.” She turned the ignition key and the old truck roared.
    Song watched Rhonda drive away and felt a little abandoned and lonely. She walked to the stable where she found Young Henry mucking out the stalls with a shovel and a wheelbarrow. She tried to think
of something to say. “It stinks,” was what came out as she wrinkled up her nose.
    â€œHorse manure generally does, ma’am,” he answered and kept shoveling.
    â€œCable—Mr. Jordan—had to go to the mine,” she said, making another attempt at conversation. “Wonder how long he’ll be gone?”
    Young Henry leaned on his shovel. “Hard to say. It takes a good hour to get to some places in the mine. I know what happened, by the by. One of our miners what lives in our hotel told me while Mom was putting together your basket. Navy Jones got his arm broke, you