A/N: I realized that they never actually showed us Hasil and Sally-Ann making any sort of arrangements for their date – it goes straight from "Can I take you on a date?" (and her smiling non-answer) in Episode 2 to Hasil actually waiting outside a restaurant for her to show up (and then getting tazed!) in Episode 3. So I thought it might be fun to show what might have happened in between. (In terms of the timeline of the show, I'm also thinking that this must have happened at the same time as the Pit Fight, because Hasil didn't seem to be there, even though he congratulates Asa for winning when they talk at the wedding.) Anyway, enjoy!
Edited to add: I wrote this before the big reveal of Sally-Ann's home life in Episode 5 (and can I just say in response to that: eek!), so clearly the way I've depicted it below is way more positive than how it actually seems to be. Just goes to show that I should be careful about trying to write backstory when the show hasn't finished giving us all the pieces… :)
"Jacqui, I'm goin' on break, okay?"
Hearing no response, Sally-Ann turned her head towards the next register over. Her co-worker's face was bent down and her hands were clutched in front of her; even with the counter in between them, it was clear she was looking at something on her phone. They weren't supposed to use their phones while they were on shift, but Sally-Ann knew that Jacqui had two kids at home, one of them with a real bad case of strep, so she was most likely just checking in to see how they were doing.
"Jacqui," she repeated, a little more loudly, and this time the older woman looked up and caught her glance. "I'm gonna take my break."
"Yeah, okay," Jacqui replied, her voice soft and weary, quickly turning her attention back down to her phone.
Sally-Ann walked around the register and began to make her way down the center of the store, absently glancing down the aisles as she passed. Everything looked neat and orderly, just like it ought to. They had restocked a few days ago, replacing almost all the merchandise that had been taken by the Farrells. Of course, all the employees who had been there that night had also been required to stay past closing, just to get everything cleaned up for when they re-opened in the morning. They had scrubbed all the floors, mopping up the dirt and the residue marks from the tires of the ATVs, and Sally-Ann had been instructed to gather up all the children's plastic balls that had escaped into the aisles when they were thrown from their corral. As she had set about her task, she realized that she truly had no idea how to make sense of what had just happened – of the fact that she had watched them all burst into the store like a bunch of barbarian raiders, the stories she had heard growing up suddenly coming to life right in front of her. Of the fact that one of them had talked to her, not in the terrifying way she might have imagined, but sweetly, as if he was somehow trying to charm her.
"…like two names rolled up into one… that's a beautiful thing…"
After they had left, she had snuck the wooden bird into the pocket of her apron and taken it home with her at the end of the night. Even at home, she hadn't wanted to leave it out in the open – she wanted it to stay like a little secret, one that belonged just to her – so she had folded it into one of her momma's old silk scarves and tucked it in the top drawer of her bureau.
At the back of the store, she found the door to the employee break room and pushed it open, hearing nothing when she walked in but the combined drone of the florescent lights and the run-down refrigerator. Seeing that the break room was empty, she considered staying and eating her lunch there, but the air was stale with the traces of cigarette smoke, and she remembered how nice the weather was today. So she grabbed her lunch from the fridge – a turkey and cheese sandwich, on store-brand white bread – and walked back into the store, turning towards the small side entrance that opened onto the outdoor lumber section. Outside, it was warm, but thankfully not too hot, and Sally-Ann found a space and perched herself on top of a pile of over-sized garden soil bags.
There was probably another reason why she had felt inclined to take her break outside, sitting right in this particular spot, but that wasn't something she was necessarily ready to give full thought to quite yet.
She took her sandwich out of the plastic baggie, and then began to uncover it from its paper towel wrapping. She had actually made two sandwiches today – one for her and one for James – and she had left his on the kitchen counter before she left for work this morning. She had left a note, too – not much, just his name – but at least this way she could let him know she was thinking about him, hoping just like he was that today would finally be the day they called his name and told him they had more for him than just a day or two of work. She knew it was hard on him – not being able to find a steady job – and the fact that she supported the two of them only made it worse. His baby sister, holding down two jobs, paying all their bills, when he hadn't brought home a decent paycheck in more than a year.
There were times she wondered why they stayed here, in this small, half-dead town, when they could pick up and go whenever they wanted. They had no real ties here. Their parents were gone and what relatives they had left were back east, in Pittsburgh mostly, but some in Baltimore. And it wasn't as if she had any real close friends here, either. She had been a quiet child growing up, quiet as a teenager, too, and it didn't help that she had been just about the only black girl in her tiny high school, adrift in a sea of white faces.
Sally-Ann had dreams, though. Once James had gotten a job and they had saved enough money, she was going to go back to school. Probably just community college for a little while, but maybe she could transfer to the University of Kentucky. They had a good nursing program there, and with that kind of degree she could find a job just about anywhere, one that didn't involve wearing a nametag or having to bust teenagers trying to buy beer with obviously fake IDs.
No, there was nothing keeping her here. Nothing making her heart jump a little every time she glanced up towards that mountain.
"…the only thing I know about her is she ain't half as pretty as you…"
She hadn't expected him to say that. Nobody had ever said anything like that to her. But everything about him pretty much defied expectations. He was one of them, one of the Farrells from up on the mountain, who lived somehow without phones, or cars, or even electricity. The way he talked was so old-fashioned, like he was from another age, like he had just stepped out of a tall tale. But for some unfathomable reason, he had fixed his attention on her, seen something in her that was worth walking half a day to pursue.
Sally-Ann had never been pursued, let alone with this kind of clear determination. It was exhilarating, and a little terrifying.
Taking a moment to rest her half-eaten sandwich on her lap, she let her eyes drift closed, feeling the warmth of the afternoon sun on her face and arms. In the private comfort of her own mind, she could think about his soft, sad eyes, and how he always seemed to be smiling. She didn't know anyone who smiled that much, except people she saw on TV.
"Hey there, Sally-Ann..."
She jumped a little, startled, but she knew who it was before she even opened her eyes. No one else said her name like he did. Normally, when people said it, it ended up sounding clipped, the first two syllables quickly uttered and generally all but forgotten. But when he said it, it was almost as if he was singing it, the sound drawing itself out all rich and sweet, the last part seeming to fall off his tongue like a coil of honey.
Blinking her eyes open, all she saw at first was the blinding sunlight, but then he came into focus, standing just a few feet away from where she sat. It was still hard not to be amused at what he wore, with his kilt and his sleeveless shirts, a feather hanging in the lengths of his long, wavy hair. And then there were the tattoos, long blue spindly lines forming intricate patterns across his arms and shoulders, and, perhaps more troubling, the large hunting knife clipped onto the front part of his belt.
"Hi…" she said, feeling a shy smile spontaneously forming on her lips. "What're you doin' here?"
"Well, see…" he started, cocking his head to the side like he was about to start in on some long story. "Ya seem to possess this peculiar habit of not always answerin' my questions. So I came down to see if this time ya might tender me a reply."
"Your questions?" she asked, trying to sound innocent, even though she knew exactly what he was talking about. She remembered his words perfectly.
"…hey, can I take you on a date?..."
She hadn't said anything back to him as she had walked up the hill, just giving him a smile instead of the answer she knew he wanted. It had been so hard, knowing she couldn't say yes, but not wanting to say no.
Standing in front of her now, though, he had his eyebrows raised, amusement written into his glance, a half-grin rounding towards his cheeks. He knew she remembered, too.
But the whole idea was ridiculous. She couldn't go on a date with Hasil Farrell, this wild and strange white boy. The whole town would know just as soon as it happened, sooner probably, and James would certainly find out, and there'd be no end to what she'd hear about it at home afterward. And what would they do on a date, anyway? Go to some restaurant where she'd have to read the menu to him? They probably wouldn't let him in the door, knowing that he had no money and was just as likely to rob the place as pay the bill.
"Look…" she said, picking up her sandwich and dusting any remaining crumbs off her lap. "I don't know, Hasil." She realized, at just that moment, that it was the first time she had said his name. "I mean…" She stopped, not knowing what to say, looking for a way out that didn't involve rejecting him outright. "I can't go out with you. I don't know anythin' about you."
"What'd ya wanna know?" His face was so open, his mouth still holding the trace of a smile.
"I mean…" She paused, offering a tiny shrug in her shoulders. He had replied so quickly, she hadn't had time to think of anything to ask him. "I don't know… What… what do you live in up there? You got a house or somethin'?"
"I got me a place."
"What kinda place? What's it look like?" She could hear the challenge in her voice, almost like she was interrogating him, but at this point, she realized she was also more than a little curious about how he lived up there on the mountain.
"Well…" he said, the drawl in his voice lengthening out the vowel in an unexpectedly captivating way. "It's set back in the woods, right up agains' the trees. Built it myself, in point of fact." He smiled again, and she could feel her breath catching in her chest. "It's got a little porch that wraps around partways, so I can sit outside when it rains, and do my carvin'. In the summertime, like it is now, I take down all the windows, let the breeze blow in. And then… at night, ya can hear all the creature sounds, everythin' comin' alive, the screech of owls in the trees, the vixens cryin' out in heat."
Sally-Ann listened, entranced; as he was talking, it was as if she could picture it exactly in her mind, his tiny forest sanctuary, tucked away from the world. She was filled with a powerful desire to see it, to have him take her there.
"What about in the winter?" she asked, her voice softer now. "Don't it get cold?"
"Nah," he replied, shaking his head. "I got me a woodstove, keeps it warm pretty good. But some nights, though, I gotta pull out all my fur pelts, make a nice big pile to lie underneath."
And now her mind was racing even further, thinking of Hasil and his bed covered in furs, and long winter nights when the snow falls down and blankets everything in stillness, hiding you away in its secret, silent refuge.
"So, uh…" His voice was lower, warmer, stirring her in a place she hadn't known existed. "What else ya wanna know?"
"I…" It was a little hard to speak, because she couldn't really breathe. She couldn't really think either, so the only thing that came into her head to say was the one question she knew she probably didn't want the answer to. "I don't… I don't understand… why do you wanna go on a date with me?"
He smiled widely now, his cheeks rounding with it, and glanced away for just a moment as he began to absently play with a strand of his hair.
"Why wouldn't I wanna take ya on a date, Sally-Ann? I was jus' 'bout struck dumb when ya said ya ain't got a boyfriend. Woulda thought they'd be linin' up to take ya out."
It was all too much, the feeling in her heart, spreading across her chest, down her arms and into her fingertips. God, she wanted to keep feeling like this. It was paralyzing, hypnotizing, like some kind of wonderful and powerful narcotic. She didn't want it to ever stop.
"Okay," she said. "I'll go."
"Yeah?" He laughed and she saw how excited he looked, how happy. And then, with a small jolt, she realized it was because of her.
"Sure," she replied quietly, giving him a little nod. Now that she had said yes, the reality of it was slightly overwhelming.
"When d'ya wanna go?" he asked.
She took a moment to think through her schedule: she was working the day shift here tomorrow, followed by the night shift at the Rev 'n' Bev. The next day, though, was her day off at the Home Center, and she was only working until six at her other job. What was even better was the fact that the public hearing about the land development was being held at the high school that night, and she knew James had been planning on going. He wouldn't even be home when she came back to change clothes.
"Day after tomorrow?"
"Sounds good," he said, nodding. "Ya wanna go out to a restaurant?"
She smiled a little, amused at how literally he had taken her description of a date.
"Uh, sure…" Of course, she realized, he probably didn't know any of the restaurants in town. It didn't really matter, though, as there was only one that was half-way nice that happened to be open at night.
"Why don't we go to Acorn's?" she asked. "It's right on the corner of…" She stopped, sensing that street names would be of little use to him. "It's one of the first buildings when you first come into town off the highway, with a stone front and a big lit up white sign."
"Ya wanna meet there?" he asked. "I could always come by your house and pick ya up."
It was sweet of him, and clearly what he imagined a proper date – no, courting, she suddenly thought to herself – included. But for some reason she wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea of him knowing exactly where she lived.
"It'll be easier to meet there. Maybe right after it gets dark?"
"I'll be there." He pointed at her playfully. "And don't be havin' any fancy notions 'bout payin' for this. I'm gettin' paid, so I'll be takin' ya out." He grinned with what she sensed to be a great deal of masculine pride.
"Alright, then," she said, planting her shoes on the asphalt of the parking lot and rising up onto her feet. "It's a date."
Now that she was standing, they were in much closer proximity, and she could feel the pull of the connection between them, the same way she had felt it at the end of their walk home together. She didn't know how to explain it, how he did it, but she was somehow filled with the impulse to draw closer towards him, to trace the lines of his tattoos with her fingertips, to softly press against her lips against his.
"Well, I…" She paused, taking a moment to inhale some much-needed air. "I should get back to work. My break's almost over." Grabbing her unfinished sandwich, she turned towards the store entrance, only to stop and look back at him over her shoulder. "I'll see you later, Hasil."
"Not soon enough, Sally-Ann," he replied, once again saying her name slow and sweet, like it was a promise made just to her.
She kept that sound in her heart as she went back inside, and let it follow her until it was the only thing she could hear.
