Howard says more to me than Forrest does all day. In fact, Forrest doesn't even grant me a mumble. I don't understand. Was that some kind of test? Maybe he thinks I am just like Elizabeth since I was so quick to jump in his arms.

"I got you somethin'."

My eyes shift up at Howard.

In his outward hand he holds a Marion Harris record.

I know he's feeling guilty about my shoulder, but I didn't expect this. "Howard, I can't take that."

"Well sure you can." He grabs my hand, placing the record in it.

"I don't know what to say."

"Usually thank you."

"Of course, it's just… no one's ever given me anything before." I bring the record closer. "Thank you, Howard," I smile.

Forrest scrapes his chair across the floor, and slams his office door once he goes inside.

"Pay him no mind. He's been in one hell of a mood since last night."

"Yeah, sure," I murmur.

...

"What's eatin' you?"

I sniff up my nose, looking confused at Howard. "Oh, the onion," I laugh, wiping my tears away with the back of my hand.

"Here, let me."

"Really?"

"They don't bother me." He's right, his eyes don't even well up.

"What's your secret?"

"In 1919 I was on an army troop ship. We was makin' our way to England. Influenza spread across that ship like a wild fire. I, uh," he starts to laugh as if at that exact moment he realizes how silly it was, "I slept on the high stacks of onion crates, you know away from it all."

"Well, as long as it worked, right?"

"Oh, no, I got sick just the same as the others," he chuckles.

"So you stank, and got sick."

"It was nothin' compared to the men that was dyin' in their own filth." Recalling the memory seems to upset him, though who wouldn't be? "I never told anyone that."

I don't really know what to say at his honesty. I deflect it because it's all I know. "Surprised you eat onions now after that."

"Not much turns my stomach." He lightly presses his fingers to the back of my shoulder. "Except for maybe one thing."

I remove his hand from me. "Now, Howard, stop. I told you, it was an accident."

"But I-"

"Might have to pull another six shooter on you again if you keep making me seem weak."

He starts to laugh.

"Go on now," I shoo him.

"Alright, alright."

"Thank you for your help," I smile.


As I'm sweeping the floor, I notice there are blood spots on it. I drag the broom across it and it smears against the floor. Fresh blood. My eyes follow a trail of it that leads to the bathroom. The door knob is bloody, as well as half a hand print on the molding of the doorway. I press my fingers to the knob, slowly pushing it open.

Howard is at the sink, his clothes dripping red.

"H- Howard," I gasp before gagging at the smell.

"What?"

"Are you alright? Look at you!"

His eyes shuffle before he lets out a breathed laugh. "Not my blood."

"Oh." A quick breath escapes me.

"You are gettin' soft on me."

"No, I just. Well, you should see yourself. You look like a damn lunatic! Whose blood is that?"

"Belonged to one of our cows. Gave birth to a six legged calf. What do you reckon, good omen or a bad one?"

"I don't know.."

"Guess it don't matter. I'll bring it inside in a minute."

"Are we going to… serve that to the customers?"

"'Course. What the hell else do you think we gonna do with it?"

I reach for a rag and help him clean up. A lot of this blood looks a few days old.

"I can teach you some time. Teach a Slaughter how to slaughter."

I hear the screen door open. "If you'll leave your clothes on the sink, I'll wash them for you." I bump into Forrest on the way out of the bathroom.

He's displeased, nostrils flaring.

For a moment I think I'm going to get to hear his voice for the first time in days.

He just sneers at me and points at the customers who have walked in the station.

...

"Good night," I tell Forrest.

He's as stoic as ever, staring blankly down the road. One hand hangs loosely in the pocket of his cardigan. The other doesn't accompany his usual mug of coffee, and he didn't drink a single one I brought him today. Or the other days.

"Alright then," I murmur, stepping off the porch. It's the longest four miles home of my life. When I pull up to our driveway, I stay rooted to the seat. I guess part of me wants to go back and talk to him, while the other part tries to convince myself otherwise. He'd talk to me if he wanted to.


"Excuse me, I can't find the cake flour."

"Sold out," the clerk says.

"Well, alright, thank you for your-"

The store manager takes a grip on my buggy. "We can't help you here."

I rip my purse from it. "Perhaps you could have told me that before I wasted my time collecting these other things."

"To avoid wasting your time don't ever come back in this store again," he threatens.

"Two Slaughter's down, two to go," the clerk laughs.

He isn't the only one to have a real good laugh.

My body stiffens from the bold remark. With a vicious yank, I get a can from the soup display and bash him over the head with it. After two blows to the head, I drop the bloody can at my feet, starting to shake. I hurry from the store, to my truck. My hands are stained red. I wipe his blood down the front of my dress. Oh, gosh, what have I done?

...

I try and wash some of the blood out of my dress, but it's only seeping further into the fibers. "Dammit!" I crouch down behind the bar at Blackwater Station and start to cry.

"Charlotte," Howard calls.

Shoot! I thought I was alone. I know I was alone! Where did he come from? I fan my face, taking a deep breath before I rise up.

"What's wrong?"

"I just miss Ray is all."

His eyes narrow to slits.

I heave a heavy sigh, rubbing the back of my neck.

"Might of believed you if you said Elizabeth. Walk around here, let me take a look at you."

Suppose he's not leaving until I tell him, and truthfully, I'm all out of lies.

"Soup can, huh?" he smirks.

"Twice, in the head. I don't regret it."

"Well, he fuckin' deserved it."

My eyes flood. "I don't regret it, Howard," I whimper.

He tries to give me a hug, but I move away from him.

"I'm sorry, thank you though."

"What's goin' on in here?" Forrest asks.

It's not how I wanted to hear his voice again. I look up at Howard and mouth the word please at him. I'm embarrassed by this, and don't want Forrest to know.

"I, uh, just got to her is all."

I give him a weak smile before turning around.

"Mmhm."

I'm not that good at distinguishing his grunts yet, but I know Forrest doesn't believe him.

"Make me a list, I'm gonna run into town. I'll pick up the things we need for the store," Howard says, before going out the front door.

"What?" I snap at Forrest, before going behind the counter.

He snatches my wrist before I make it. "Did he put his hands on you?"

"No." I try and rip my hand from his clutches, but he's not letting go.

"I asked you a question-"

"I gave you an answer."

Forrest presses his fingers to the blood on my dress. "That's what I thought."

"No, Forrest, wait," I plea, running after him. "It isn't Howard's fault! Forrest! It's the clerk's blood from the general store. I hit him in the head after a comment he made." I'm angry with him that he forced me to tell him, though a lot of it is pride. I hate seeming weak, yet it's happening more times than I'd like to admit.

It isn't enough for Forrest. He wants to know every detail.

Damn you.

He brings his hand up to my cheek.

I thought he hated me? Hated me because of this exact thing.

"Are you alright?"

I shake my head side to side, fighting more tears. I'm not really sure what kind of tears they are. Happy? Relief? Humiliation? Maybe a bit of all three? I curl my fingers around his arm and step closer to him.

He brushes my cheek as his eyebrows knit in a frown.

I wait patiently for him to say the words he's trying so desperately to keep to himself.

Howard's boots scuff on the floor of the station as he chews on the inside of his lip. The door is almost ripped from its rusty hinges when he quickly hurries from the station.

Forrest takes his hand from me and goes after Howard.

The two of them bicker back and forth before Forrest gets in the truck and Howard climbs into the back of it.

It angers me that I'm left alone because both of them seemed so concerned. Guess I'll do what I'm good at. Putting on a smile for others. "Have a seat wherever you like," I tell the folks that just walked in.


I don't know what I did, but I've somehow managed to upset Howard. It seems like as soon as Forrest and I start speaking again, Howard and I stop. Though, Jack is always friendly, even though I've tried so many times to keep him and Lorelai apart.

"You think this looks alright?" Jack takes a step back and holds out his arms.

"There's a hole on the side here," I say, tugging at the armpit of his shirt.

"What if I just keep my arms down?"

"Go change and I'll sew it up for you," I laugh.

"Who you tryin' to impress," Howard simpers with a mouth full.

"I'm going to propose to Lorelai," Jack smiles proudly.

Howard's face goes blank.

Jack shows him the ring he picked out.

"You'd be my sister?" Howard asks me.

"In law, but, yes."

Howard pushes himself away from the bar and goes over to where Forrest is sitting, slamming his hand on the table. "How the fuck could you let somethin' like this happen?"

Forrest clears his throat, going back to his books.

Howard shoves it from the table. "I'm talkin' to you! You gonna act like this ain't eatin' you, too?"

Forrest mumbles something at Howard, however they're actual words this time. They're just too low to hear.

"I'm not in the mind for this horseshit," Howard yells, slamming the door behind him.

That thing is hanging onto its rusty hinges for dear life.

I give Jack a smile and offer again to fix his shirt for him.

"Thanks, Charlotte."

I don't understand why Howard's mad. I thought we were actually on speaking terms.

Forrest's cup sliding across the table pulls me from my thoughts.

The man knows just how to get under my skin, and I let him. "Here." I set it back down beside his books.

"Get you somethin' to eat before you leave. You ain't had nothin' all day."

"How do you know that?"

"Uh.." He seems slightly embarrassed.

I can't play these games with him. I have my sister to worry about. It's the first night I don't tell him goodnight when I leave.


"Lorelai, come on!" I'm already a few hours late. I ended up sleeping in. Guess the stress is starting to take a toll on me. "Lorelai?" Where is that girl? "Lor-"

Lorelai looks at me with owl eyes, tears falling down from them.

"No," I panic, but Mr. Mason's men keep me from getting to her.

"Where's my money?"

"I'm still working on it!"

"Maybe this will give you the proper motivation." He cocks his gun, pointing it at Lorelai's head.

"No, please," I beg.

"Let go of her," Forrest demands, stepping in the house.

"You paying for her father's debt?"

I'm mortified.

Forrest's eyes shift over to me.

I can't bear to look at him and drop my head.

"Your debt's with Ray, not me'n not these here girls."

"Ray owes me seven hundred dollars."

"Your problem'n your fault for a poor decision to trust him with your money."

"Sir," one of Mason's men whispers. "That's Forrest Bondurant."

I'm released as I hurry over to Lorelai.

"Go on now, get out of here."

None of Mr. Mason's men dare utter a word, and leave quietly.

The pull Forrest has is incredible.

"Go wash up, okay?" I tell her. "Thank you for stepping in, Forrest. I-"

"Three times now."

"I don't know what to say."

"I asked you if Ray was in trouble'n you said no."

"It was none of your business."

"Well, guess what? My business now'n you're two hours late."

I'm so ashamed right now.


"Where did you get all this food?" I ask Lorelai.

"Just thought I'd pull my weight is all and go shopping while you was at work."

"You went to the general store in town?"

"Uh huh." She breaks off a piece of her chocolate bar, stuffing it in her mouth. "They even pushed the cart around for me. I just pointed at stuff. The manager told me he's going to special order the cake flour for you. Should be two weeks."

I pull in a lung full of air. Forrest. He must have went back that day I was upset and had a word with him. I shudder to think what a word even means.

"Are you upset? Did I not get the right things?"

I give her a warm smile. "Let's cook everything you bought!"

"Okay," she giggles.

...

"Try this biscuit with honey on it!"

"This is better than the gravy!"

I've never been so gluttonous in my life.

"Fry the pork chops next!"

We're running out of counter top space to put the food. 2 lbs of bacon, fried chicken, 12 stacks of pancakes with syrup, tapioca, and cream of wheat are just some of the things. We were just cooking to cook!

"Carry me to my bed, Charlotte," she groans.

I'm stooped over against the cabinets. "Me first," I laugh.

"This was a terrible idea."

This is exactly what we needed, and if it means dealing with a stomach ache, that's fine. Something to distract ourselves from everything. With Mr. Mason out of the picture, and me working full time, we can finally save up the money we need to go back to New York. 1930 is going to be a good year for us. I know it!


I wake up gasping for a breath on the kitchen floor.

Lorelai was right, we ate way too much.

What's that smell? I flutter open my eyes, but the room is dark. "Lor-" I start having a coughing fit, unable to catch my breath. It's so hot in here. It's never this warm in- The house is on fire! "Lorelai," I scream, crawling across the kitchen. "Lorelai," I cough. Even though I've lived here most of my life, I can't find my way around with this thick smoke. I feel her hand wrap around mine.

"Charlotte," she cries.

"Hold your breath, I'm going to get us out of here!" I feel for furniture as a guide to try and find my way out of the house. The roof is already starting to collapse. "It's okay," I tell her. "There's the door!"

"Lorelai," Jack screams, running across the driveway.

I set her down on the grass by the steps.

"Is, is she alive?" Jack panics.

I start to cough, nodding my head.

Forrest grabs Jack by his arm and pulls him back. "Give 'em some room."

"Jack," Lorelai cries.

"Jack, stay with her."

"Wait a minute now," Forrest demands, "you ain't goin' back in that house."

I ignore him, starting up the steps.

Forrest snatches my wrist. "Whatever's in there ain't worth your life."

"Why do you care?" I pull my wrist from his grip.

"You gotta sister that does. What were you goin' back for?"

"A metal box under my bed."

He takes off his hat and hands it to me.

"No!"

"Where is it?"

"It's the first bedroom on the right."

Forrest opens the screen door, going inside of my house.

The heat from the fire is unbearable, and the smoke is darkening the sky. Everything I've worked for over the past few months is gone. The left side of the house starts to cave in. "Forrest," I call, wringing his hat in my hands. What's taking so long?! Oh, gosh, what have I done? I sent him back inside for a stupid box! I'm going after him.

The side window breaks, as smoke rolls out of it. Forrest sets his foot on the ledge and jumps out of the window.

I exhale a relieved breath. "Thank you, Forrest." We trade the box and the hat.

He wipes the soot from his nose, then turns to throw up.

I try to rub his back but he moves me away.

"Charlotte," Lorelai calls.

"Let me look at you," I tell her.

"Our house," she cries. "What are we going to do?"

"Don't worry about that, we're alive."

"What happened?" Lorelai asks.

"I must have left the stove on."

"It was Mason's men," Forrest says. "Saw them come from this direction. We expected worse than a fire."

It's pretty bad if you ask me, but I know he's meaning that he thought we'd both be dead. Luckily most of the money I've saved is in this box that Forrest got, but it's not enough for us to head back to New York. That means we'll have to rent something in town and it's going to take us twice as long to get back. I suppose one good thing did come out of that day.

Jack proposes to Lorelai right there in the grass, fire and all.

I'm happy for her, and Jack really does love her. Though it does make me question if maybe our trip to New York will ever happen. I know she wanted Jack to come with us, but the truth is, with them getting married, I'm going to have to let my sister go. I don't think I really know how to live without taking care of her, but I guess that's Jack's job now. I'm getting ahead of myself, and this isn't about me. I give Lorelai a smile and pull her close. "Congratulations."

"We best be getting back now," Forrest says, slipping on his hat. He isn't just talking about Jack. "You two can share one of the bedrooms upstairs."

"What about Howard?" He's not going to be happy about the new living arrangement if he can't even stand the thought of us in the same room.

"Oh, I reckon Howard ain't going to be too happy 'bout this but he'll live."

"Thank you, Forrest."

"Mmhm."

I look back at a house of nothing but terrible memories as it quickly deteriorates.

"Come on, let's go home," Lorelai says, taking my hand.

Yeah, home. For however long this one lasts..


A/N Thanks for all the reviews and follows/favorites! The little excerpt about Howard and the onions is actually taken from Matt Bondurant's book, 'The Wettest County in the World.' Six legged calf is a dvd deleted scene.