Cherry's looking for a Rowdy. She can't have mine, but I know a dirty lookin' fella that lives out by Route 84.
Mia stays up all hours of the night. She says she's reading, but her internet history says otherwise.
Readers- 40 chaps? You know, for your soul and two cupcakes, I can keep this baby going...
Chapter Thirty-Seven: Sh-ts & Sycamores
"…And this part here is used for the meat. You know, for gator gumbo or deep fried gator tail." Rowdy dangles a piece of raw gator flesh and I grimace at the sliminess of it all.
"That's gross," I say, squirming away.
"You eat it, don't you?" he asks, swinging it in front of my eyes.
"Well, yeah," I admit, shooing it away. "But I don't, like, wanna see him all chopped up. Look at what you did!" I point to the sad remains of the creature whose scaly skin is peeled back and guts are hanging out. Poor gator never stood a chance. Now that Rowdy's working with Papa part-time, GatorSkins is booming. Rowdy found a new way to bait the animals and they're catching 'em left and right.
It's not that I'm opposed to it. Hell, I know that's how Papa makes his millions and keeps me clothed in the prettiest of dresses. But there's a side to gator hunting I hate; it's like we're in a war with the animals and they don't even know it. War against flesh and blood; a battle against God's creatures and our need for survival.
Papa trudges back into the warehouse with Carlisle, both of them heaving a big ol' ten footer with snapping teeth and a long tail. They lift it on top of the table next to Rowdy, who's wearing a leather apron covered in blood and entrails. He's gross and muddy and dirty, and he reminds me of the boy I first met.
"Lookie here, Rowdy!" Papa exclaims with a big grin. "This one is yours."
Rowdy wipes his hands on a bloody towel and walks over. "Mine? I didn't catch him; I didn't even go out with y'all today."
"Well, I've got that new trap you invented that says otherwise. You're looking at big money this week!" Papa pats him on the back and Carlisle is just as proud of his son.
"Good work, kiddo. You keep it up and you're gonna take my position," he jokes.
"Lead hunter?" Rowdy asks. "No, Pop, it's all yours. 'Sides, I've got football camp that starts in August. It's a couple of weeks away and I can't miss it for nothing."
"You ever change your mind, you know where I'll be," Papa replies. He turns to me, eyeing my dress and boots. "Careful 'round here, Cotton. There's alotta machinery and the floor is slippery. Don't want you falling and hurting yourself."
I grin because he says that all the time. "I'll be careful."
"Carlisle, you wanna help me unload the boat? I think that net's all tangled up around the blades."
"You got it, boss." Carlisle and Papa leave us be and Rowdy grins widely.
"Can you believe it? I get a bonus!" Rowdy reaches out to hug me and I press my hands onto his bloody apron.
"No way, mister. This dress is brand new."
"Shucks, I don't even get a kiss?" Rowdy puckers his lips and even though I've never turned him down, I can't even breathe him in without gagging.
"Nope," I say, emphasizing the p. "This here is a gator-free zone. After you make friends with soap and water, then we'll talk."
"Tease," he smirks, wiping down his knife. "Anyways, you know what this bonus means, don't you?"
I shake my head and he pulls out a folded newspaper that's been cut to just the article. He points to the picture as I lean in for a closer look.
"I've got enough for the down payment on a house! Been saving up for months and it's finally happening."
"Really?" I squeal.
"Yep. Says here it's got two bah-bah … no, that ain't right. Two be-edrooms and a fou … full kit … kitchen. And some other stuff," he rushes out quickly.
He's too adorable sometimes. I finish reading the house listing with two bedrooms, a large kitchen, a dining room area, and one-and-a-half bathrooms. The house is gorgeous and I can't believe we actually have enough to pay for it on our own.
Papa insisted that he would pay for it, but Rowdy said it was his responsibility. Between him working and the money I've made from pageants, we're finally all set.
"You wanna celebrate after I get off?"
"Why wait until then?" I breathe, standing right in front of him. "I say we celebrate now."
I give him a quick peck on the lips and then run away, the tulle of my dress floating behind me. I giggle and laugh, being not-so-careful in the dangerous room.
When Rowdy does catch me, I'm covered in gator blood and all sorts of gooey substances I can't identify.
He calls me his Gator Girl as he presses me firmly against the steel wall, and I don't mind one bit.
.
.
.
"Buth Ma, I canth eventh talkth stwaight. You pwomised and now my biwthday's come and gone!"
Ma sets a platter of ribs out on the table and stares at AJ. "Yes, Alice Jo. I told you for your 14th birthday you could get partials, but that was before you knocked over my plants in the dining room and broke the glass cabinet. So now as punishment, you're going to have to suffer a while longer."
"If ainth faiw!" Alice Jo crosses her arms and pouts.
Ma ignores her and sets down a bowl of collard greens. "Charlie! Supper's ready!"
"I'm coming!" Papa yells from down the hall as Jessie runs into the kitchen wearing only her under tank and yellow undies.
"Jessica Beth Gracie! Go put some clothes on right now!" Ma looks at my sister standing there half naked, her pigtails swinging.
"I can't," she shrugs, scooting into her seat.
Ma narrows her eyes. "What do you mean you can't?"
"Well, Miss Esme was baking a pie and I was happy 'cause I love blackberry pie, so I was jumping up and down and then Emmett came in and he was telling me this joke about candy bars, and you know what? I don't even think I liked the candy bar he had. I think it was old 'cause it had somethin' green on it and I ain't have the heart to tell him, so I just watched him eat it and-"
"Jessie! Get to the point!" Ma reminds her.
"Oh yeah, so there I was ready to eat some blackberry pie and I thanked my Baby Jesus as loud as I could and then Esme said I must've had ants in my pants. I ran all the way home, Ma, and I checked and there won't a single ant in there. But I ain't putting my clothes back on, just in case they change their mind."
Papa stands at the entrance of the kitchen chuckling. "She didn't mean real ants. She just meant you were excited, Jessie."
Jessie frowns 'cause she doesn't understand the way grown folks talk. "Why didn't she just say that? Seems rude, lying to me like that! I almost shit on myself."
"JESSIE!" The four of us yell her name and turn to her in shock. Well, AJ's "Jessie" sounds like "Jeffie," but the intent is still the same.
"Where did you hear that word, young lady?"
"From Miss Esme," Jessie says. Her bottom lip starts to quiver, her eyes well up with tears and I can just tell she's going to start bawling. "After Emmett ate all that bad candy, Miss Esme said he was going to shit on himself and he did."
I sigh 'cause she had the nerve to cuss again and Ma shakes her head. "Jessie. Go in the back room. You're getting a spankin'. You know good and well we don't curse around here!"
"But-" Tears stream down her chubby little face. "It ain't my fault, Ma. Papa?"
Jessie looks to our father for help but he crosses his arms. "You heard your mother."
"But I don't wanna!" Jessie screams and wails and cries and jumps out of her seat. "I can't help myself! I've got ants in my pants! I've got ants everywhere!"
She runs around the table as Ma tries to catch her, until she finally hides between my legs underneath my chair. "Don't let her get me, Cotton!"
I try to protect her, but it doesn't do any good. I've been spanked one too many times myself. The actual hit against my bottom wasn't too bad; I reckon the anticipation of it is actually worse.
"Get out here now, Jessie!" Ma orders. "I'm not playing with you."
Jessie sobs and screams to the heavens, but for once there's no one to help her. Papa drags her out kicking and hollering as Ma follows behind them.
AJ takes a sip of her sweet tea and sighs.
"Ain'th that some shith!"
.
.
.
Rowdy's waiting for me under the sycamore tree like he always is.
He's like that—so dependable I never have to ask where he is or search for him. He's always there, and there's not a day I imagine he won't be.
This time he's got a blanket spread over the grass and he's sprawled out, hogging the entire thing.
He's gorgeous, I think to myself.
"Got any room left?" I joke, sitting down beside him.
"Maybe." He flashes a crooked grin and scoots over, pulling me down so I can cuddle underneath his arm. I gaze at everything he is and I can't believe he's mine, mine, mine.
Always.
We stare at the stars, underneath the tree's leaves with our heads edging near the rough bark. It's one of those nights, the kind where God seems to sprinkle little flecks of gold in the sky. If I didn't know any better, I'd say He put them there just for Rowdy and I.
"You remember our first night under this tree?" he whispers.
I'll never forget.
I nod silently. It was the first time I gave him a massage when he said his back was hurting. It seems like a lifetime ago, before pain fell in and through us. We've learned a lot since then, or I'd like to think so. Maybe we haven't learned anything at all and we just have a better way of coping with all of the misery and bullshit.
"I felt you then," he continues.
"Felt me?" I ask in a quiet voice. "What does that mean?"
Rowdy pulls me closer, as if I'm not already a part of him. "Means I was hurtin' that night. When I did get some sleep, I was dreaming of you, and I had this ache running through my bones."
"I'm sorry you weren't feeling well back then." Even to my own ears, it sounds pathetic and not enough.
"Don't apologize," he murmurs. "It was a good dream, Cottonseed. You and I were together and we were running through the clouds. I don't remember how we got up there, but I remember you laughing. It was that real laugh of yours, the kind where you throw your head back and no matter how many times you try and stop it just makes you laugh harder? Yeah, you were laughing like that and every time I'd try and catch you you'd run faster."
"I am pretty quick," I tease.
Rowdy grins and presses his cheek against mine. He points up towards the sky with both hands, like he's imagining us up there. "You yelled back at me, but I couldn't hear what you were saying. You finally slowed down and I asked you, 'What are you looking for?' You had this huge smile on your face and you said, "The rainbow. Come on!' You started running again but, I couldn't see it at all."
"Was I fibbing?" I ask him.
"I don't think so. So I kept chasing you, Cotton, but I never did catch you. By the time I woke up, I was in so much pain I couldn't go back to sleep."
Something about his words makes me kiss his cheek. "So I reckon that was a bad dream then."
"A bad dream?" Rowdy repeats. "Naw, I walked straight to your house after that. You opened that window, Cottonseed, and I saw that rainbow. It was bright and beautiful and full of life and color."
"Me?" I question, rubbing my hand along his arm. "How can I be the rainbow if I was chasing after it?"
My heart beats, echoing in my eardrums. Rowdy is easy, everlasting love that he makes known. He whispers as he cradles my face toward his.
"You were too busy trying to find yourself, Cottonseed. But the thing is, I could see you the whole damn time."