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nish-s-random-writing · 6 years

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Growing Up

USUK! Cardverse Fic (1/?)

Summary: Alfred met Arthur in the orphanage. He was determined to make this new, older, grumpy kid his new friend, no matter how much he’s being pushed away. But somehwere, miles away, the king and queen have just been killed and the kingdom needs replacements.

ff.net link || Chapter 2>>

There was always a king, a queen, and a jack. A chain of three that bound the kingdom together.

In the Kingdom of Spades whose emblem glowed blue, in its castle with a million rooms, in its limestone towers and gold-lined walls, in its vast ballroom with crystal chandeliers, in its exquisite throne room which radiated wealth, in the chambers of the king and queen, in the royal blue silks of their bed, lay the bodies of the two, who now lay at rest.

Two old men, bound by the Spadian symbols blooming from entwined palms, were now watched over by the young jack as their bodies lay unmoving.

Yao, but a nineteen-year-old boy from the east, having served under the two old monarchs for scarcely three years, now felt overwhelmingly vulnerable. For so long, he’d looked too them for guidance and strength; they were his anchor. He’d felt so small under their gaze—gazes that were so proud and ever comforting. Now, they were gone, and a new king and queen would take their place.

Would they be kind? Wise and old? Would they be young, and innocent, to be brought up in spoiled wealth and empty palace halls?

Whoever they might be, Yao would watch over them. He would fulfill his duty as jack. He would not let something akin to this happen ever again.

“Clean the blood,” he said to the maids. “Take the arrows from their chests,” he said to the servants. “Open the gallows,” Then, with narrowed eyes said to the guards, “And execute the murderers.”

Ooo000oooO

When Alfred heard that a new kid would be moving into their orphanage, he expected somebody exactly like him and his friends. Well, they weren’t all alike. They were unique snowflakes, all of them, like Miss Amelia always said. But they were all around the age of six or seven, some shyer than others, some a bit louder. They were all friends and they all played together. They loved candy and running and joining Miss Amelia’s sing-a-longs on Thursday nights.

But the new kid, Arthur, he was… well, he was a stick in the mud.

Now, Alfred knew that sounded mean, and he would never say that out loud, but truly the new kid was exactly that.

Alfred was the first to see him. He’d gotten a good amount of candy from his seventh birthday just a day before so he saved a bar of chocolate as a gift for the new kid.

He crept down the stairs on the morning of July 6th, and peaked out the corner into the homely lobby.

Miss Amelia was conversing quite bubbly with a woman who was a bit shorter, whose hair reached her knees and eyes covered with glasses. By her legs stood a tall boy, perhaps nine years old, looking tired and grumpy and had the largest eyebrows Alfred had ever seen.

His hair was blond, like his own hair but lighter, and his eyes were green like the forest in the spring. Like gems gleaming quietly in the firelight.

Alfred decided he liked his eyes, and resolved to tell him so.

So when Miss Amelia waved goodbye to the other woman and led her to the door, Alfred bounded from his spot and met with the new kid, who now stood alone in the middle of the lobby.

He looked surprised at first, then questioning at the chocolate bar waved in his face. Then he scowled at Alfred. “What do you want?”

“Hi! My name’s Alfred. I heard you’re the new kid, right? Anyway, it was my birthday two days ago and I got a bunch of candy so-“

“I don’t care about your birthday. What do you want?”

“Oh,” Alfred blinked, taken aback. “I uh, well, I wanted to give you this chocolate bar!”

Arthur regarded him cautiously, a scowl still plastered on his face. Alfred shifted, but he would not be deterred. Maybe the new kid was just grumpy, is all.

“I don’t want your chocolate,” he finally said.

Alfred’s tiny heart must’ve broken. He was only trying to be nice! Why was this kid mean to him?

Miss Amelia came back, then said something about it being nice meeting Arthur.

Arthur? That must be the new kid’s name.

She took the older boy by the hand and led him around the corner, but not before telling Alfred to go upstairs and sleep for it wasn’t even breakfast time.

Alfred felt upset. But then, maybe it wasn’t the new kid’s- Arthur’s fault. Yeah, he must be upset too. Alfred would just have to make him happy. Miss Amelia said he was a hero; he could make anyone happy! And that was just what he was going to do.

Ooo000ooO

“Arthur! Arthur!” Alfred cried, speeding between crowded breakfast tables and sprinting past children to reach the kid with huge eyebrows who sat sulkily under an apple tree, all alone.

“Arthur!” Said Alfred, out of breath, holding up a chocolate bar in triumph. The new kid scowled up at him, but did not move.

“You again? I said I didn’t want your chocolate!”

“But why? Don’t you like chocolate? I saved it especially for you, and I was hoping we could be friends, you know?”

“No, I don’t know. And kids like you will never be my friend. Now sod off and leave me alone!”

When Arthur yelled, Alfred jumped back. Just a bit. He wasn’t afraid.

Arthur was practically growling now, but Alfred did not want to give up. The new kid was definitely not shy, so maybe he was just nervous? Sometimes kids get angry when they’re nervous. It happened a lot of the time, when aspiring parents came around looking for children to adopt.

Or maybe Arthur was just upset that he was now an orphan. Maybe his parents died or something. Alfred would be gentler this time, a bit more soft-spoken though he knew that wasn’t like him at all.

“Hey,” Said Alfred with a gentle smile. “I know this place might be weird and new to you, but it would be really good if you made some friends. We’re all really nice here and we get along together, and I’m sure I’m not the only one who wants to be friends with you. I promise, I’ll be really nice to you, Arthur! So what do you say?”

Alfred held out the chocolate bar again, hoping against all hope. “This chocolate bar’s the really good kind! You don’t have to take it, though. Just say so.” He smiled, but Arthur didn’t.

“I told you to sod off, brat!” Arthur huffed. He stood, taller than Alfred, and sneered down at him. “I don’t know you, and I don’t want to know you. But I know your kind and I’m not trusting you one bit. Now leave me alone!”

He stomped off, back into the mess hall, leaving Alfred close to tears with a lonely chocolate bar. Why was Arthur so mean?

Alfred didn’t believe that bullies existed, even though he’s heard of them. Maybe Arthur was a ’bully’ but just needed some love. That must be it. That had to be it. Alfred wouldn’t give up until he made a friend of Arthur. He would be sure of that!

Ooo000oooO

“Alright class! Open your workbooks to page fifteen and answer the questions!” Miss Amelia’s voice was a happy chirp. She bounced over the heads of cross-legged children sitting in the grassy garden, excitedly flipping through their books ready to answer questions about The Princess and the Pea, a legend old as time from the kingdom of Clubs.

“Psst, hey, Arthur,” Alfred called to the tall boy who sat close to him. Well, he sat close to Arthur in the first place, even though he was at the very back of the crowd and Alfred usually liked to sit at the very front.

“Arthur, Arthur!”

“What?” The other hissed. He had his pencil in an iron grip.

Alfred offered an apologetic smile. “Hey, do you know what, um, eks—excuse- no. Um, this word, ex-”

“Exquisite.” Arthur grumbled.

“Wow, you can pronounce that? What does it mean?”

“It means really fancy or really nice or something like that. Now, go back to your work or I’ll tell Miss Amelia.”

“Miss Amelia’s nice,” Alfred said with a thoughtful smile. Arthur didn’t yell at him this time! “Do you like her?” he asked.

“She’s too nice. But everyone likes her, I suppose.” Sighed the elder boy.

Alfred blinked, once again bewildered. “Suppose? What does that mean? Gee, Arthur you sure do know a lot of words! You’re really smart, you know.”

It may or may not have been a blush, but Arthur’s cheeks seemed to redden just a tad. His scowl, however, deepened somehow, yet his words did not match his expression. “T-thank you. It’s just a basic word! Nothing to fret over. And uh, that means ‘I guess’.” The words were strings tumbling out of his mouth. Flustered and timid, he went back to his workbook.

Hmm, maybe Alfred had somehow broken through this time. He smiled. It would only be a matter of time before he could truly call himself Arthur’s friend. “Hey, Arthur? What does, um, this mean? A-ack, a-quick, uh- aching-”

“Acquire!”

Ooo000oooO

“Wooh, thanks, Art! I would’ve totally failed that thing if it weren’t for you!”

“Shut up, Alfred. And why are you still following me?”

Alfred looked around and noticed that they were out of the orphan mob having lunch in the mess hall. They were outside, watching from a distance; Arthur with his tray of food making for the lone apple tree in the garden.

“Hey! Don’t you want to eat with the others?”

“I don’t like crowds.” Arthur answered simply. “Please, just go back to your friends.”

“Eh, they’ll be fine!” The younger boy waved his hand dismissively. “I want to hang out with you.”

Arthur looked a little less than pleased at his answer, but this time, he didn’t tell him to ‘sod off’.

Progress.

He took his seat under the shade, back to the trunk, and Alfred sat across from him. The breeze was cool and the grass was dry and the roses by the door smelled a million times closer. Alfred hummed pleasantly and began to bite into some bread.

“Yuck.”

“Wha?” Alfred’s head sprang up, filled with food and confusion.

“One bite and you’ve gotten sauce all over yourself! Dear Spades, don’t you have any manners?”

“Manners?” Alfred swallowed with a loud gulp.

Arthur’s frown twisted into an expression of disgust. “Ugh. Wipe that off! You look like a clown drowned in ketchup,” He stated, but the corners of his lips were tilting up, and Alfred knew that despite his reprimanding, he was getting enjoyment out of this.

“Heh, am I a funny clown?” Alfred pushed. “‘Cause then I can make you laugh!”

He smiled, then giggled, then laughed openly, and not a second later Arthur shook his head with what might’ve been a tiny, tiny smile gracing his lips.

“You’re a buffoon, Alfred.” Was all Arthur said before throwing a napkin at his face, the younger boy still laughing with gleeful abandon.

Ooo000oooO

Given three days with a sulky, older kid, Alfred liked to think that he’d begun to warm up to Arthur. He liked his accent, and he’d told him so. Arthur blushed and called him a ‘git’ but refused to explain what that word meant.

He didn’t push Alfred away when they went to have breakfast, lunch, and dinner under the apple tree together and he didn’t scowl at his incessant ramblings. He may have cracked a smile or two, and maybe even thanked him for getting him food.

But what left Alfred confused was how he seemed to enjoy belittling him an awful lot.

He called him a pathetic kid. He called him small, innocent, impatient, and irresponsible every chance he got. Alfred was the gullible kid; childish, and ‘utterly helpless’ on his own, whatever that meant.

But Alfred didn’t see what was wrong with that—he was a kid, after all. Kids were a lot of those things, and he thought, so should Arthur, but then Alfred found that Arthur was different like that. Maybe it was because he was older. Still, he was only nine years old! Then again, Alfred had never really spent any time with a nine year old, as most orphans had already left the orphanage by the time they turned eight years old.

Maybe that’s why Arthur was so stuffy. Maybe he just wanted to be adopted, like the rest of them. Maybe, but Alfred wouldn’t bring it up for now; it was still too risky, and he had yet to gain Arthur’s complete trust.

He would prove that he could be an awesome friend! Really, he would.

Again, after Miss Amelia’s lessons, they made their way through the noisy mess hall. Children laughed and snorted, and threw food all over their tables. Miss Amelia however sat listening to the radio with her small plate of food by the door.

Alfred strained his ears to hear. Sometimes, they’d have action-plays, or even some music! He enjoyed the radio during those times. Unfortunately he found today to be just another silly news broadcast. How boring.

“-ing and Queen of Spades, King Kurt and Queen Ram have…. in their bed…. died hand in han…. Jack Yao of Spa-…”

“Stupid static!” Said Miss Amelia, wrestling with the spindly wires on the metal box.

Alfred left her to follow Arthur.

“Hey, Arthur,” Alfred said, plopping down in front of him as they sat under the apple tree. “Who was that lady that brought you here? Was she someone you knew?”

Arthur hummed in thought, picking at the grass by his foot. He wasn’t a particularly cheery kid, either. “Her name was Miss Alice. She ran the orphanage I used to stay at.” He mumbled, voice low.

“You were from another orphanage?” Alfred’s eyes bugged out wide. “What happened?”

“Well…” Arthur hummed again, deep in thought. He was tossing the idea about in his head—Alfred could see it, in the jittering manner of his hands, his half-lidded eyes, his lips pulling into a thin line. Finally, the boy sighed, and his eyes darted back to meet Alfred’s.

“The place was going bankrupt,” Arthur stated. “As I heard, Miss Alice couldn’t keep all the kids, so she started looking for places to send them to. I was one of the last to go, and Miss Amelia said she could only take one kid because of how many you already have. I suppose Miss Alice was getting quite desperate, you know, to get all the children out before they begin to starve.”

“Oh, well that sucks,” Alfred remarked with a pout. Arthur let slip a small smirk and then Alfred was smiling too.

“Believe me,” said the elder. “This place is way better than that old misery shack.”

“Oh, is it because of me?” Alfred grinned with a wiggle-waggle of his eyebrows.

“Well,” Arthur tilted his head. “It certainly has something to do with the company.”

Alfred counted this as a victory. If Arthur didn’t yell, and he smiled quite bit, then it counted for something, right?

And then Alfred talked, well into the hour. Arthur would sometimes nod, sometimes stare into the grass like it held the most interesting little questions when in fact, Alfred had the questions. He asked and asked, and Arthur’s answers were scarce. But Alfred loved them. He loved his voice.

He didn’t mind the occasional snide remark, nor the commentary on his apparent ‘stupidity.’ When Arthur smiled, smirked or hummed, when he let out a single chuckle or looked at Alfred with a hint of amusement, he found Arthur to be very much worth it.

“Hey, come on,” Alfred finally said. “Miss Amelia will be roundin’ us up soon, you know. Let’s go.”

Then he stood, and held out his hand. Arthur stared.

It was at that moment Alfred realized he’d never actually touched Arthur before. Not even a single elbow rub. Now, he was offering his hand for Arthur to clutch. Would he even take it? He still seemed to dislike Alfred. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe he’d gone too far. Maybe Arthur wouldn’t want to be friends for his sudden forwardness.

“Oh, alright you impatient twat,” Arthur said with a roll of his eyes.

Alfred might have smiled so wide that it hurt.

And then Arthur took his palm, fingers sliding over Alfred’s in a firm hold, then hauled himself up effortlessly despite the boy’s small stature.

“Well, then.” Arthur blinked. “You’re quite a strong lad for your- ah, ow!”

It was like a bat hitting Alfred’s palm with a firm slap, painful and sudden, and the two boys jolted back. Then a pinprick of needles began to work its way down Alfred’s arm, coating his fingers, his wrist, down to the crook of his elbow. He realized with some horror that the same thing was happening to Arthur.

Blue—blue vines so vibrant they seemed to glow on his skin. Spiky leaves and tiny roses bloomed over Alfred’s forearms, like a living tattoo swirling this way and that, all connected to a single blocked symbol right in the center of his palm—the Spade of his kingdom.

“Alfred! Arthur!” That was Miss Amelia; she was running to them, staring at their arms. She looked torn between whether she was to scream or cry; and then she sobbed, hands over her mouth. “You two… the king and queen.”

(a/n): BOOM 3,000 words of pure 3 am fire, baby! I already have chapter 2 in the works and boy oh boy is this gonna be a wild ride. I actually have an inkling of where this is going and a plot in my head--it’s a right miracle, my babies! I’m h y p e d for this!!!

#usuk #fanfiction #cardverse #aph england #aph ameirca #aph china #fanfic #nish #my writing #ukus #usukus

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claitynroberts · 6 years

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Willow Springs Ranch

Description: A young man bumps into a mysterious woman during his rushed morning errands. On his way home that evening he discovers what he thinks is a dead calf in the pre-storm winter dusk. What he finds, on the other hand, may just change his life.

Author’s Note: I really enjoyed writing this a while back so I polished it up and decided I’d post it here for y’all’s enjoyment! For now it will remain a one-shot, but could potentially turn into a series. Let me know what y’all think!

Warnings: None really, although there may be a life/death situation.

Word Count: 3,544

Jesse

My hometown has about twenty-seven thousand residents. It’s large enough you don’t know everybody, but still has that small town, close knit vibe. I can walk into the feed store and name every old rancher who spends their day shooting the bull and playing checkers under the guise of running to town to grab supplies. On the flip side, I can walk into the local donut shop and grab my usual breakfast order and not be able to name a soul besides the young lady who works behind the counter. What I’m trying to say here is there are thousands of “familiar faces” you begin to recognize after a lifetime of living nearby, but, try as you might, you can never place any one person unless you absolutely know them.

The young lady I picked up today on the side of the road about ten miles out of town looked so familiar. Her chocolate brown hair and dark eyes pulled at some long-forgotten memory of mine but whenever I tried to bring it to the forefront it slipped further and further away. As I sped toward the house I checked the rearview mirror to make sure she was still okay. Besides being soaking wet and having a slight cut above her right eyebrow she seemed fine. She curled inward on herself even more and my black lab Maggie snuggled in closer to her. I cranked the heater up and tried my best to arrange my big Carhart coat over her like a blanket hoping that would help keep her warm for now. I turned back toward the windshield and listened to the windshield wipers slap against the wintery mix that fell from the sky quicker and quicker while I thought over this morning’s trek to town.

It wasn’t an unusual day. I made my run to the local donut shop where I got two kolaches and a large black coffee for myself and a dozen mixed donuts for the boys at the feed store. In hindsight that was a bad habit to start, but whenever I walked in every Friday morning with my breakfast, Jimmy and Carl always asked for half of one of my kolaches even though they didn’t like them. I walked in and set the donuts on the table next to the checkerboard where Jimmy and Carl were playing and they flew at them like flies to a fresh cow pie. “Well good morning to y’all too,” I quipped.

“Morning Jesse!” Carl bellowed in his baritone voice. “How’s the ranch been?”

“Same as it was when you asked last week, Carl. Cows are still calving, wolves are still a problem, I’m still single, and I’m still broke. But I’ll let you know as soon as possible when one of those things changes.” Now Carl is a good guy but sometimes, well all the time, he can be a one upper. He liked to hear how everyone else was doing so he could boast about himself. I’ve known Carl all my life, he was good friends with my grandfather before he passed, and he is a great rancher, but most of the time I had to shut him down before he could get riled up.

I leaned up against the counter waiting for the clerk and studied Carl and Jimmy for a minute. No one who didn’t know them would ever expect the two of them to be rodeo legends. Where most cowboys are athletically built, even years later, these two put on about a hundred and fifty pounds since they quit the circuit. Now they were pot gutted and grey. No doubt their wives were to blame since they were some of the best cooks I have ever met, but sometimes they were a tad gluttonous. Why, Jimmy was already starting on his third donut and I had only been here all of ten minutes.

Jimmy liked to wear cinch button downs, wranglers, and his boots no matter where he went. The only thing that changed about his attire was what kind of hat he wore which changed with the seasons, straw in summer and felt in winter. Carl was the same way except sometimes he would add a vest now and again. Both men had old leathery faces from being in the sun most of their lives and their wise eyes were framed by bushy white eyebrows and they had a thick Sam Elliot-esque mustache above their upper lips.

“Jesse, would it trouble you to get some apple fritters next week? I’m not a big fan of the glazed donuts.”

“Jimmy, it looks like you like the glazed donuts just fine. You’re in the middle of eating donut number three!” I exclaimed, chuckling.

“Yeah but they just ain’t as good!”

“You do know you have this conversation every week, right Jimmy?” Carl asked.

“Well, bout time he took the hint then, huh?” Jimmy replied and gave me a scathing sideways look.

“Next week you can get your own damn donuts then Jimmy. Also, if you would pay more attention to that rigorous game of checkers and less attention to the donuts you would have noticed that Carl just positioned his own pawn in a way he can take your king.”

“Thanks a lot, Jesse! I thought we was friends!”

“I don’t make the habit of keeping cheats as friends, Carl.” I grinned and turned around just in time to see Miss LuAnn come from the back of the feed store. “Morning Miss LuAnn! How’s it been?”

“Oh, good morning Jesse! The rain the last few days has kept a lot of our usual riff raff out, except for these two,” she giggled and rolled her eyes. “I’m not sure what everyone is going to do! The weatherman is calling for snow this weekend and if the other ranchers don’t come pick up their orders, it may be a few days before their stock can be fed.”

“Yeah, I know. That’s why I came by today, better to be safe than sorry I guess.”

“So, your usual order is ready and Larry has the boys loading it for you, do you need anything else?”

“Ear tags and a marker please. Also do you have any dog supplies?”

“We sure do, what are ya looking for?”

“Wormer and flea and tick treatments.”

“We actually got these new things in.” She handed me a box as she explained what it was. “They are a chewy beef flavored cube and it’s supposed to kill and repel fleas and ticks as well as help with worms. It’s a three-month supply in the box.”

“That’s pretty interesting. Any idea how well it works?”

“Not a clue.” She smiled.

“Well…how much does it run.”

“It’s a little more expensive than the two manual treatments…but I’ll tell you what. I need testimony on how they work, so I’ll give you the first box.”

“You drive a hard bargain Miss LuAnn, but I guess that works.” I smiled and winked at her.

“Oh hush.” She smacked my arm. “You are easily our best customer, Jesse. At least when you come in you spend half a grand in supplies. These codgers hog the checkerboard, take up my Wifi, and suck down my free coffee.” LuAnn gestured to the two men off to the side.

“Thanks, LuAnn. Whatever I can do to help y’all out. I know how the big ranch stores are affecting y’all.”

“We’ll muddle through somehow,” she said with a wan grin.

“Well, I better get going. I have a few more stops this morning before I head back to the house.” I paid for my provisions, thanked LuAnn and Larry, called my farewells to Carl and Jimmy, and climbed in my truck. Yep. Completely normal Friday at the feed store.

I made a few more stops throughout the day, the bank, the post office, the local café for lunch, all the same as normal. The only thing a little strange was the stop at the gas station. I pulled my big farm truck up to the diesel pump and began to fill up the fuel hog I called my favorite truck. When the pump clicked off I ran inside to pay for my fuel and grab a few things. The line was a couple people deep when I got up there, and more people filed in behind me; man, it was a busy afternoon for the Quick Stop. I was standing there going over my items to see if I forgot anything when the young lady in front of me finished her purchase and turned the wrong direction running smack into my chest. She dropped her brown paper bag and everything spilled out. I set my basket down on the counter and stooped to help her right her things.

“I’m so sorry!” She exclaimed. “I should have been paying better attention to where I was going.”

Her voice was soft and somewhat timid, and her long brown curls hung out of the hood she was wearing. “It’s fine.” I rounded up her twenty-ounce bottles of Coke, a package of skittles and sour gummy worms, a box of condoms, and five cans of Red Man. As I hurriedly put the items in her bag, I raised my eyebrows and tried to make eye contact with her but she never looked up from below her hood. I noticed she had duct tape, a loop of nylon rope, and some scissors in her hands. “Wow. You must have some night planned.”

“I-it’s not all gonna be used, you know, together.” She stammered as she grabbed the bag and headed toward the door. I watched her pass through, and before the door shut behind her she turned to look back at me. The side of her hood and chocolate curls still covered most of her face but I saw her eyes. They were chocolate colored as well and were delicate in nature although they were large and round and set perfectly in what I could see of her face.

I turned back to the clerk who had my purchases already rang up and gave him my credit card. I finished the transaction, and walked back to my truck in a stupor. I sat there for a moment until my dog Maggie jumped up on the center console and began to vehemently lick my face. I chuckled and stroked the top of her head; still dumbfounded. I heaved a sigh and started the huge truck up and pointed it in the direction of my grandma’s house still trying to shake that weird feeling.

When I got to my grandma Bernie’s house she was asleep for her afternoon nap. I checked her breathing and adjusted the blankets around her, straightening them up and tucking them closer to keep her warm. She was in her late sixties but could still keep up with the best of us twenty-six year olds; she regularly went out to the local honky-tonk four nights a week and drank just as much as my buddies and I did. It became a weekly tradition of her and my grandpa’s and now that he was gone I wasn’t sure if she still did it to remember him or to get him out of her head. Since she was sleeping at five o’clock I assumed she was going to the bar tonight too. I chuckled and set about stoking her dying fire in the big stone hearth.

I walked back through the house to her outdated kitchen and set about putting her groceries away for her. I placed her twenty-four count of Ultra’s in the fridge on the bottom shelf where she preferred to keep them nearly ice cold, put her bread and other things in the pantry and left her packs of Camel crushes on the counter next to the note I wrote.

Granny

I put your groceries away and beer is in the fridge—it should be cold. I also stoked your fire and fixed the crooked cabinet in the kitchen. I figure since you were asleep at 5 PM you are planning on going out tonight. Please be careful. There is a front moving in that is promising snow, and with the low temps and rain the last few days things could get slippery pretty fast. I’m going to head home and check on the ranch and spend time with Mom tonight. If you do go out, say hi to the guys for me. Also kick Teddy’s ass at 9-ball for me. Love ya, you old battle ax.

Jesse

P.S. take is easy on the Camels. You remember what the doc said.

About the time I left my grandma’s house the weather had changed. The temperature dropped to sub-freezing temperatures, the wind switched to the north, and what used to be rain turned to a mix of sleet and drizzling rain. I left the driveway and drove south toward my house in the waning light of the November dusk. Granny lived a couple miles south of our big-small town; and as the crow flies, my grandma lived about ten miles away from my ranch. But since I’m not a crow and we live in a pretty hilly area, it was really about thirty miles out of town.

I drove as fast as the wet pavement and loaded down pickup would allow, trying to stay ahead of this front so I didn’t have to drive in the newly frozen elements. However, thanks to the Kansas City Southern and a county road with no way to go around the train, the storm moved in and stayed ahead of me all the way home. That’s when I saw her.

At the time, I didn’t know it was a her. To be honest the pile looked more like a calf that couldn’t make it through the beginning of a harsh winter. I pulled over and flipped my hazards on; as I climbed down from my truck I rummaged around in my vest pocket trying to get ahold of my cell phone. I unlocked it and pulled up Old Man Peterson’s phone number seeing as the calf had to come from one of his two properties here by the highway. I walked over and nudged the torso with the toe of my boot, rolling over not a calf but a young woman.

Her skin was pale olive in the dim light coming from my trucks headlights, and her dark, wet hair spilled out of her hood and wrapped across her neck. I bent down and checked her pulse, it was light but it was there nonetheless. Her breathing much the same shallow, light, and very irregular. The skin around her mouth had a blue tinge and all color had drained from her lips and cheeks; her fingers were cold and stiff and the nail beds were turning blue as well. She was a little stiff when I picked her up and a light dusting of snow fell off her as I disrupted the surrounding environment with the motion. She was lucky I found her when I did, or she would very well be dead by morning. I placed her in the back seat of the truck and threw the emergency blanket over her to try to keep her warm. My dog jumped back there immediately as if she knew the girl needed something warm nearby and curled beside her on the seat.

I ripped myself from my reverie and looked at the clock. We were about two minutes from my driveway, and it took about another to get up it and to the house. I looked back in the rearview and saw that she was still curled up and her breathing seemed to come slightly easier now than earlier. I shifted my focus back to the road and pushed the gas down a little more, daring to go as fast as possible to get this girl to my house quickly. What felt like eons later we pulled into my driveway. Mom’s car wasn’t here yet so I assumed she was still on her way home from work; she was always a nervous driver but today of all days she had to be gone when I needed her most.

I cranked the truck off and ran up the porch steps and unlocked the door before returning to grab the girl, everything else could wait for now. Maggie ran inside ahead of me, and I rushed the young woman upstairs to the master bathroom. I set her down on the tile floor and leaned her against the wooden cabinets of the double sink while I plugged the huge whirlpool bathtub and turned on the shower to get the water heated up. I returned to the girl and checked her vitals again. Her breathing was more regular although it was still shallow and sounded pained, and her heart beat was a little stronger but still slow. I looked at her face and pushed her wet hair aside. She had some color coming back to her cheeks but her lips and fingers were still blue. She stirred lightly and I stooped down in front of her. I looked into her squinted eyes and tried to explain the situation, although I’m not sure how much of it she understood in her condition.

“Hey, hey, hey. Are you awake?” I asked. She continued to barely squint at me. “I need you to focus on what I’m about to say, okay?” She nodded. “I found you on the side of the road. You’re freezing and we need to get you warmed up. Do you understand?” Nod. “Okay. I’m going to undress you and put you in the tub. Alright?” Nod. “Okay, then.” I set about removing her soggy, wet clothes, which to my relief had thawed and were no longer frozen to her; I scooped her up and climbed with her into the bathtub.

Positioning ourselves under the hot water pouring from the shower head, I sat us down and began rubbing my hands up and down her shoulders and tried to work as much hot water into her freezing hair as possible. Remembering from some survival show that it’s easier to stay warm with skin to skin contact, I removed my long-sleeved thermal and pulled her back against my chest. She let out a soft cry as the hot water began to thaw her frozen skin and she curled into my chest closing her eyes and falling asleep. After what felt like hours later, but I’m sure was no more than a half hour, I heard my mother come in downstairs. “Jesse?” She called.

“I’m up here!”

“Are you in the bath? I don’t want to dis—,”

“Mom, I need your help.” I cut her off quickly.

“What’s wrong honey?” She asked as she came through the door. I saw a million different emotions cross her face, until she registered what was going on. “I’ll grab some of your sweats for her. We can put her in your bed since it’s got the fireplace beside it.”

“Good idea. Before you do anything turn my electric blanket on high and heat up the bed. Then grab some of my clothes and you can take care of her. I’ll start a fire and see if I can get some soup started for when she wakes up.”

“I’m on it.”

A short while later Mom came back in with my thickest pair of sweats and best hoodie for the girl. She grabbed a towel and I stood up bringing the girl with me. Mom wrapped her up like she had done me a hundred times when I was little and I sat her on the toilet lid. The motion roused her slightly and she was looking at me with heavy lidded eyes again. “Hey, my mom is here and she’s going to help you into some dry clothes. Can you sit up on you own for now?” Nod. “Good, okay. Once she gets you dry and dressed, we are going to get you into a nice warm bed so you can sleep and when you wake up I’ll have some soup to help warm your insides okay?” Nod. Nod. “Alrighty then, I’m going to go make a fire.”

I turned to my mom, “you sure you got her?”

“Honey, I have been your mom for twenty-six years and a CNA for nearly thirty. I think I can handle her.” She said with a small smile. “Go get things ready, okay?”

“Alright.” I left the room still in my dripping jeans. First things first, I need to get changed. I rummaged through my drawers until I found another pair of warm sweats and threw on a black V-neck. I walked over to the fireplace and set about starting the fire. By the time the large logs had caught and began roaring, Mom opened the door to the bathroom and came out supporting the half-asleep girl. Quickly I turned down the bed and rushed over to scoop the woman up in my arms. Again, she nestled into my chest like she had known me all her life before I gently laid her down against the pillows and covered her up with the plush comforter.

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