Horror Vacui
A/N: 'Sup, dudes and dudettes! You wanna know what I've decided to do? I'll tell you. But don't get all flustered at me, I as a writer can't handle more stress than the stress I give myself. I've thought about it for a while and I think it would save us all a lot of time and space if I just started on the story instead of going on and on about nothing. Hope none of you all mind too much.
Oh, and isn't that book club Meg Cabot set up the best?! No other author I know is that committed to her readers. Now that's what I call love, man.
And yet again I must apologize for my incredibly long, long, LONG absence. It's my entire fault. I can never devote myself to one thing at a time. It's so sad. They're trying to find a cure but so far there hasn't been any success. . . Hah, you know I'm joking, right?
A/N: And I just want to add that right now I'm watching LOTR: Return of the King again!!!!!! Oh yeah! Who rocks? ARAGORN DOES!!!
Chapter Five: Taking Care of Business
Chores, said Anet. That's what she called it. Yeah right. More like 'everlasting careers'.
Do you actually know how hard it is to just boil water in the 1800s? No, of course you don't, you weren't alive here. This is the kinda work your great-great grandmother was probably doing. But still. It's like really hard.
First you have to drag a few bucket loads of cold water from a stream after scooping that water outta the stream and then I have to filter the water so we don't end up boiling any gold nuggets or rocks or anything (as if that would be such a huge disaster). And that's really a strain on my arms since I don't have as much upper body strength as I pretend to. I'm more the kick boxing type of girl then the regular ol' boxing type.
But that's not the half of it. Then you gotta lug the water back to the Inn and start up the gas stove (which might I add is no piece of cake with this kind of technology). In all, that takes about . . .an hour a trip, give or take some. I have to do this every day from now on.
That and serve food.
Anet gave me that job since she figured I could fend for myself and not get harassed or raped by any cowboys (probably because I was so "rude" to Paul). She says that happens a lot here. The raping, not the Paul thing. But I guess I shouldn't be so surprised since it's still true in the 21st century except it's not only cowpokes doing the harassing.
Whatever. I'll get used to this. Jesse's here. I can put up with anything for Jesse. Even outhouses and no electricity (but without a blow dryer and makeup and a denim skirt I'm going to be like hideously ugly). And Paul.
Ick.
But I persuaded Anet to give me the 411 on Jesse-- not in those particular words, of course-- as she was explaining to me my chores and she confessed that today Jesse had checked in and would be staying for a month or so to visit his family here. She also said that Kay and "Hector" had been friends for a few years now and that Jesse's family wasn't poor or rich so he could have stayed at a grander inn but chose to come here because of their friendship.
Well, I couldn't detect any friendship in the receipt Jesse got from Kay. Maybe I'm just ignorant to this sort of stuff. Male friendship stuff, I mean. Sounds a bit complicated to me.
At any rate, hauling around water back and forth is no easy task. Already I was clumsy enough to drop the bucket three times thus having to go back and refill it then walk to the inn again, cursing all the while. I told Anet when I returned to the inn kitchen that it was useless to make me do this what with my ineptitude but she only looked amused and stated, "Only another bucket to fill and bring back, Susannah. Then you are done for today."
Whoopee.
But did I mention that the stream is like a quarter of a mile away from the Inn? Well, it is. And I made four trips to the stream, which is like two miles round trip. Woe for my poor feet. I won't be able to wear Prada or Jimmy Choo shoes ever again without wincing or limping.
This is worse than the walking I had to do to get away from Paul; at least I was only walking on pavement, instead of sharp rocks heated by the afternoon sun.
Nonetheless I did what I was ordered to do, even though none of this water was gonna be used to create a hot bath for me (and I really do deserve a bath after this). The water would be today's supply for food making because you need hot water to boil potatoes and noodles and so on.
I really feel like one of the Seven Dwarfs in Snow White with this kind of task. Hi ho hi ho, it's off to work I go. La la la la la la la la hi ho hi ho hi ho hi ho...... Oh, God, kill me now and be done with it!
You know, it's no picnic, this chore. Nope. And what makes it even more tiresome is that little tune that I now have stuck in my head. And you know what I found out? I become oafish when I'm tired and distracted by annoying songs.
And that's my excuse for stumbling and dropping the bucket.
"Crap."
I was tired. I was too tired to lift my left foot a few millimeters higher up in the air to avoid hitting my foot against a stone. Sad isn't it? It's the true though. I'm a lazy bum. Thus, I ended up stumbling.
Oh, yeah. Little Miss Graceful indeed.
Go me.
But I didn't fall flat on my weary face, like I deserved to. And the bucket did not land loudly on the dusty ground, spilling the weighty water. Nuh-uh.
A pair of lightly tanned hands reached out from apparently nowhere and prevented the bucket from spilling more than a few drops of water and then quickly steadied me. I glanced up momentarily and, disappointed to see that my rescuer wasn't Jesse, yet so so relieved to see that he wasn't Paul either, I smiled briefly.
"Kay really shouldn't leave this type of work to damsels like yourself. Faces as lovely as yours should be in the parlor entertaining," stated the guy with a well-placed grin.
Huh? I blinked and looked at the man again. Hey! This was that dude with green eyes who I had seen in the parlor, beside Kay who had winked at me. Huh. Why'd he wink at me? Do I know him? Was he in cahoots with Paul or even Diego?
Despite my sudden suspicions I have to admit the guy's best feature was his eyes. They were an interesting green color with honey colored flecks around their dark centers (probably the same sort of eyes people say I have). His face had good lines too and could be have been considered handsome if his nose was not been broken and set slightly apart probably from a bar fight. (A/N: This description is for you, Coca-Cola Classic and all you other Derek fans. Some of you guys thought that the winking stranger was Suze's dad or even possibly Diego? Wow, clearly you guys have a better imagination than I do.)
"Um, thanks." I said, warily as he took the bucket from me. "Do I, uh, know you?"
The guy let out a small chuckle of laughter. He was about my age, maybe Jesse's. "Well, you should. I know who you are. The lady Susannah. Anet's told me a bit about you, she said you might need help. Clearly she wasn't mistaken." He looked me up and down then took my hand and kissed it.
Okay, weird.
That was uncalled for and utterly random. This better be some sort of common greeting here or this guy's nose is going to be even farther apart than it is now. "I'm Derek, at your service, miss Susannah."
Oh, right. Anet's cousin. Derek 'the Charmer'. Huh, makes sense.
Heh, sorry. False alarm. His nose will stay where it is. For now.
Boy, am I paranoid.
"Right, well, hey, Derek. If you could just continue carrying that bucket the rest of the way to the Inn, that'll be super."
Derek looked happy enough to oblige me, saying, impishly, "yes, ma'am," and he held the cumbersome bucket with one hand effortlessly, standing straight and tall, unlike me; I had been hunched up with two hands on the handle, sadly enough, practically crying from the weight of the water.
Well, no, not crying. Maybe I'm just being histrionic but whatever.
I could now walk freely, --sort of, this damn dress weighs me down—and the slight breeze from the ocean was comforting as well.
Derek made small talk on the way to the Inn. He told me airily that the mule they used to cart around the buckets full of water had died a few weeks ago, which had caused Kay to become even more austere then before.
Lovely, just my luck. I'm being used as mule, now. Great.
Hee haw.
I asked him what he did here, to help Kay, hoping he'd know something about Jesse, too. He shrugged charismatically, and replied, "When Anet sings I play the piano, I'm quite good at it actually, it's not my intent to brag though. I could play for you sometime....only for you, if you like." I raised my eyebrows, indifferently.
This Derek kinda reminded me of a nineteenth century Adam, except subtler and not as loud. He added quickly with an impressed grin tweaking at his mouth, "Or not. But I also run Inn errands for Kay and help him break up bar fights." And that was my chance to turn the topic to Jesse.
"Right, so, uh, has that guy, J-Hector," I remembered this time not to call him Jesse, "ever been in a fight here or caused trouble?" Okay, not so subtle myself, I admit it but that didn't stop him from giving me an answer.
"De Silva? Not a chance in he- erm, never," he finished lamely, dropping his elegant act momentarily.
What? He can't say 'hell' in front of a girl? It's not proper here? Tuh, forget propriety!
"Excuse me? What were you about to say?" I asked politely. "'Hell?' Not a chance in hell? Well, that's good to know. I take it you know him then. Can you tell me about him?"
Derek glanced momentarily my way, after I had said this, his look one mixed of suppressed perplexity and also kind of admiration. "I might've known you were a cut above the rest," he said, shifting the bucket to his other hand.
Before I could even ask what that was supposed to mean he continued, "Well, Jesse's a nice enough fellow. He has a huge family, loads of sisters, and has known Kay for quite a while now." He counted on him fingers. "Five years, I believe. Yeah, and he comes and goes ordinarily 'cause his family owns a ranch, great ranch by the way, best beef I've ever tasted."
He glanced at me, curiously, his green eyes twinkling, freakishly like Paul's. "Why so interested, miss?" When I couldn't think up an answer quick enough his eyes became even brighter, if possible. "What? You fancy, de Silva, Susannah? Is that it?"
In response I questioned, feebly, hoping he would get distracted, "What about his sisters? What are their names?"
No luck.
Derek just laughed triumphantly and I looked ahead for the Inn, not yet in view. "I thought as much! Knew so when you wouldn't respond to my desirable charm." He grinned again and spotting my less than happy mood added, amicably, "Don't worry. I won't tell Anet. She fancies him as well. Wouldn't wish to ruin a newly found friendship, would I? Anet would have my hide...and tan it too."
Before I could say anything he went on to tell me anything he knew about the de Silva girls. I knew there were five of them, of course, at various ages but I was excited to learn those exact names and ages. Here's the list:
Alita- 16
Isabel- 14
Neva- 12
Elaine- 8
Nina- 5
I wanted to learn more about their personalities, wondering if any of them had Jesse's calm manner and intelligent mind, but all Derek told me was about Alita's gorgeous figure.
Men. Honestly. What even made him think I'd care?
And, um, hello? What happened to hot Suze? Hi, yeah. I'm still here. Don't mean to interrupt your little Alita fantasy Derek, but weren't you just flirting with me a mere five minutes ago? Not that I care but still. Pay attention often?
'Easy come, easy go,' in this world I guess.
I bet Jesse'd seriously hate to hear Derek talk about his oldest younger sister this way. Probably blow a fuse and start walloping him viciously.
I wonder if Jesse ever thinks about me in the way Derek talks about Alita. . .hmm. That would be nice.
Derek was going on about Alita's "lovely almond sun-kissed skin" and her "voluptuous womanly curves," (ew, EWW, too much detail!!!) and I was about to tell him to shut up and grab the bucket from him then dump it on his head for good measure too, when the Inn appeared ahead.
I hurried forward and gave Anet a heads up that I had met her cousin and he was going on about Alita and to please make him stop before I did.
Anet waved a flour-covered hand at me, distractedly. "Don't worry 'bout Derek if he goes sniffing about your skirts." -Um, ew?!- "He can charm the spots off a dog, and he certainly tries to, but he's really enamored with that de Silva girl for reasons I cannot fathom."
Uh...okay. Off topic much? "Riiight, then, I'm just gonna go if you don't need my help here...." I informed her slowly heading towards the exit.
"Oh, no, Susannah," Anet stated, waggling a floury finger at me. "You'll need to boil the rest of that water and then help me bake this bread then serve it when it's done. You're not getting off that easily."
Damn it. "Fine," I stated, my escape thwarted anyway as Derek entered, passing me the loathsome bucket of water.
I added, in a clipped tone, "But someone has to take care of my horse. The dark one in the front. Some cowboy scumbag barely fed it and I was too softhearted to let it starve myself." Do I regret that decision? No, I now have a horse and I save its life. The horse owes me big time. What kind of girl didn't want a pet pony when she was little?
Um. A Suze kind of girl?
Anet flicked flour at Derek to get his attention and some of it landed in his light brown hair. Not that he noticed, he was obviously still thinking about Alita, so Anet elbowed him roughly and not so nicely.
"Did you hear the girl, Derek? Hell's bells, Derek, you have got to leave that Alita de Silva alone. One unlucky day Hector will find out 'bout you're affair with her and you'll be dead." Ah, brotherly (or is it 'cousinly' love in this case?) love. You gotta love it.
Grinning roguishly, Derek wiped the flour out of his hair. "And I suppose you wouldn't lift up a finger to prevent my death, would you, Anet?" Anet turned crimson through the flour on her cheeks and I couldn't help but laugh a bit. Poor thing blushes too easily.
Derek smiled and added, "Don't worry. I'll have Susannah to prevent my death, won't I, Susannah?" He winked at me, clearly knowing that there were two girls here who liked Jesse more than him. And he was perfectly okay with it.
Before I could respond with an akward, 'Um, no you won't', he left.
But that comment of Derek's (that, "I'll have Susannah to prevent my death..." thing), really got me thinking about what I'd do, what choices I had, concerning Jesse and his death.
December 7th 1849. Today's date. Jesse died in 1850 but what time, what day, what month, I don't know. Aww. My Jesse! He might die in like a month and I might be able to do something to prevent it but then I'd never open the door to my Carmel bedroom and see his strong calloused hands, stunningly gorgeous smile, dark chocolate eyes, or hot body ever again!
You know, this is the type of agony that makes girls commit suicide. Or cut themselves.
If I just let Jesse die by the hands of that witchy Maria and her boy toy Diego, or if I'm too late to stop them, Jesse will become a ghost and therefore I'll meet him once again in the future (yay!). But then I'd be cheating him out of a long, happy, successful life where he could marry and have children and uphold the de Silva line and basically enjoy life. I mean, he died in the prime of life. Before, actually. How sad is that? I'd feel so guilty hoodwinking the love of my life (his afterlife) of life itself!
Anet ruptured these frazzled thoughts, informing me tersely that I still haven't boiled that water. So, I promptly did so, casting her a badgered look, then assisted her with baking the bread. She makes delicious bread for someone my age. Better than store bought bread. It smelt heavenly, really.
Which reminds me, I haven't eaten anything all day since like at three pm in the future. I wonder what time it is now? Must be like 4pm for some reason since it is still quite sunny.
How odd.
I tore off a huge hunk of the freshly baked loaf of bread, while Anet wasn't looking and was about to stuff it all quickly into my mouth but Anet slapped me hard on the back, causing me to cough violently on what little I had consumed.
"Jeez," I wheezed, tears of discomfort forming in my eyes, giving her a reproachful look once I could breath again. "Do you wanna kill me or something? I haven't eaten all day. Call that hospitality?"
Anet just rolled her eyes at me, which is something I didn't think they did back in this time. She handed me a wooden tray with slices of the yummy bread on chipped plates and dark raspberry-colored liquid in wooden cups on it.
"Eat later," she stated taciturnly with little sympathy for my current state. "Duty first." And she pushed me out the kitchen and to the parlor.
I shot her another obloquious look even though she was already heading back to the kitchen, probably to cook or bake something else, so she didn't see it. Boy, it's much louder in the parlor with all these rowdy cowboys than in the kitchen where the loudest thing is the gas stove.
I inspected the atmosphere of the parlor which was basically turbulent and pugnacious. Spotting Kay and Derek talking (is that all Derek does?) near the front, I walked over to them, ignoring most of the whistling imbeciles, occasionally kicking a cowboy boot savagely, if it got in the way or if the owner was way too friendly.
Setting the tray down on the counter, I sat down on a stool and looked at Derek. "Hello, how's my horse doing?"
They both looked at me. Derek answered, "He's fine, just gave him a big bundle of hay, but it looks like he hasn't eaten in weeks. " And Kay glances at the tray of food and then asks me, puzzled, "Aren't you supposed to be servin' that stuff?"
Obviously I couldn't say 'no' without sounding sassy so I just shrugged half-heartedly, saying "Yeah, but how do you expect me to serve this to a bunch of dogs who have more fun killing each other than eating good food like this?"
Kay watched me skeptically, like I was actually trying to get on his nerves and Derek nodded his head with understanding.
I held up one of the wooden cups, sniffed the contents, and asked them, curiously, "What is this stuff anyway? Smells kinda bitter."
I took a sip--hey, I was thirsty and too curious for my own good--of it, then, instantly tasting something pungant and acerbic, gagged. Derek immediately laughed, swapping cups with me, taking the cup of icky stuff to give me his water cup and he swallowed it in like two gulps.
Sick and wrong.
"Ugh, what is that? Ew. It's totally nasty." I told them, after guzzling down the water.
Kay didn't look amused. Derek informed me, however, that it was Kay's famous beer that he brews himself. "These cowboys love it, guess you should stick to the water or wine, though, Susannah."
Tastes more like pee then like any beer I've sampled. Which isn't much, so don't, you know, have a cow.
I ripped of a piece of the bread which was still warm and stuffed it in my mouth since Anet wasn't here to stop me this time. But someone else did, unintentionally, I'm sure. And no it wasn't Kay or Derek or even Jesse. It wasn't even Paul or Joan.
It was Diego. And Maria.
"Kay," a gruff Spanish accented voice said behind me loudly. "You have that information I asked for, amigo?"
And then I choked on a piece of bread for the second time today.
A/N: Well, wasn't that fun? I'm mega sorry and apologize in advance if I don't get the next chapter up soon. Which probably will happen since I can see through the fog and into the frizzy future. Wait...wait, that's just my hair. Heh, opps.
Anyway, please review!
And while your waiting for me to update, or anyone else for that matter, why don't you snag a copy of Teen Idol? It's seriously a great book. I already finished it! Not as great as The Mediator series, of course, but anything by Meg is amazingly good!
