two.” Mrs. Mason cut Jess off as she intervened from the front of the
Escalade. “Jessup, you have new boots at the house. I told you to stop
wearing those anyway.”
“Ahh,
Mother. The new ones ain’t broken in. I just got these the way I like ‘em,”
“I said
enough! No more talking the rest of the way home. It’s been a very, very long
evening.”
“Yes,
ma’am,” we answered in unison.
I saw
Mrs. Mason’s eyes in the rear-view mirror. She gave that look; the one that
terrified me. Mrs. Mason got agitated every so often with us. The previous
week, Jess and I had a burping contest in the living room. She walked in as we
bickered over who could get the furthest in the alphabet. Mrs. Mason gave me
the cold stare of unladylike death at the mere thought of me belching. Good
thing she didn’t see one of our spitting contests. Goopy hacked up lougies.
Jess was still better. He could hit a tree at six feet. My best was still
only three.
I turned
my gaze out the window at the flashing red, blue, and yellow bulbs. It had
been a magical night with carnival rides and games amidst all the smells. Cotton
candy. My stomach lurched at the thought of it. The strong odor of
sticky sweet vomit still lingered against the expensive leather of the
Escalade.
Arlis
held a large town fair every fall. Local business and clubs lined the streets
around the town square with concession booths and games. For us kids, we
waited all year for the carnival rides to arrive from Dallas. Mrs. Mason
worked the Arlis Women’s Auxiliary booth most of the evening. My father had
stopped by briefly to check on me before heading home from the hardware store.
It had been two years since he took the job.
Mr.
Buckley stayed true to his promise and retired. After six months, he put my
father in charge of the complete management side of the business. He was
excited to be getting things back in order for our lives. Money was still
tight because of all the hospital bills and credit card debt we owed.
Collection companies called frequently.
We
settled into a routine of me going to school and then home to Sprayberry. I
stayed clear of most students. I’m not sure how they knew about my life with
the Masons, but word twisted through the ears and mouths of the town residents
and on to their children. In a place such as this, my presence was pegged as
just a little different than everyone else. I was seen as poor but spent all
my time with Jess Mason. In Arlis, that bit of information was very intriguing
amongst those who liked to gossip.
My hair
grew back rather fast, and I learned to create two long braids down my
shoulders all by myself. Mrs. Mason attempted to convert my style to resemble
a girl and less like a tomboy. She visibly cringed every time I arrived at the
house with Jess after school. I usually had on overalls or stained up jeans.
Sometimes I wore a baseball cap on top of my head.
The
outfits she bought were just not practical for what Jess had planned during the
afternoons on the ranch. Most evenings, I returned to the farmhouse covered in
dirt from riding four-wheelers and fishing. I’d avoided horseback riding. I
knew it was only a matter of time before Jess would stop taking no for an
answer.
Our
parents limited us to only one sleepover a week or else that boy would stay
every night. Sometimes we camped outside in a little red tent that my father
set up in the front yard. Lying side by side, we stuck our head out the front
flap to see the stars. Jess taught me all the pictures in the sky.
When I
spent the night at his house, Jess and I stayed in the Mason's’ theater room in
sleeping bags. I’d never imagined an entire room just for watching movies. He
kept a secret stash of every kind of candy imaginable. I watched him eat Gummy
Bears together with Snickers, knowing he did it just to hear me squeal. Jess
let me pick the
Escalade. “Jessup, you have new boots at the house. I told you to stop
wearing those anyway.”
“Ahh,
Mother. The new ones ain’t broken in. I just got these the way I like ‘em,”
“I said
enough! No more talking the rest of the way home. It’s been a very, very long
evening.”
“Yes,
ma’am,” we answered in unison.
I saw
Mrs. Mason’s eyes in the rear-view mirror. She gave that look; the one that
terrified me. Mrs. Mason got agitated every so often with us. The previous
week, Jess and I had a burping contest in the living room. She walked in as we
bickered over who could get the furthest in the alphabet. Mrs. Mason gave me
the cold stare of unladylike death at the mere thought of me belching. Good
thing she didn’t see one of our spitting contests. Goopy hacked up lougies.
Jess was still better. He could hit a tree at six feet. My best was still
only three.
I turned
my gaze out the window at the flashing red, blue, and yellow bulbs. It had
been a magical night with carnival rides and games amidst all the smells. Cotton
candy. My stomach lurched at the thought of it. The strong odor of
sticky sweet vomit still lingered against the expensive leather of the
Escalade.
Arlis
held a large town fair every fall. Local business and clubs lined the streets
around the town square with concession booths and games. For us kids, we
waited all year for the carnival rides to arrive from Dallas. Mrs. Mason
worked the Arlis Women’s Auxiliary booth most of the evening. My father had
stopped by briefly to check on me before heading home from the hardware store.
It had been two years since he took the job.
Mr.
Buckley stayed true to his promise and retired. After six months, he put my
father in charge of the complete management side of the business. He was
excited to be getting things back in order for our lives. Money was still
tight because of all the hospital bills and credit card debt we owed.
Collection companies called frequently.
We
settled into a routine of me going to school and then home to Sprayberry. I
stayed clear of most students. I’m not sure how they knew about my life with
the Masons, but word twisted through the ears and mouths of the town residents
and on to their children. In a place such as this, my presence was pegged as
just a little different than everyone else. I was seen as poor but spent all
my time with Jess Mason. In Arlis, that bit of information was very intriguing
amongst those who liked to gossip.
My hair
grew back rather fast, and I learned to create two long braids down my
shoulders all by myself. Mrs. Mason attempted to convert my style to resemble
a girl and less like a tomboy. She visibly cringed every time I arrived at the
house with Jess after school. I usually had on overalls or stained up jeans.
Sometimes I wore a baseball cap on top of my head.
The
outfits she bought were just not practical for what Jess had planned during the
afternoons on the ranch. Most evenings, I returned to the farmhouse covered in
dirt from riding four-wheelers and fishing. I’d avoided horseback riding. I
knew it was only a matter of time before Jess would stop taking no for an
answer.
Our
parents limited us to only one sleepover a week or else that boy would stay
every night. Sometimes we camped outside in a little red tent that my father
set up in the front yard. Lying side by side, we stuck our head out the front
flap to see the stars. Jess taught me all the pictures in the sky.
When I
spent the night at his house, Jess and I stayed in the Mason's’ theater room in
sleeping bags. I’d never imagined an entire room just for watching movies. He
kept a secret stash of every kind of candy imaginable. I watched him eat Gummy
Bears together with Snickers, knowing he did it just to hear me squeal. Jess
let me pick the
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