Going Home with Dale

Monday found me leaning against my new desk and watching students file into the classroom. Four letter jackets came in last and seemed to mute the room's chatter.

Good morning, I'm Mr. Cullen," I said to start the class. "I'll be your teacher for the remainder of the school year. Mrs. Mallory had a bouncing baby boy and is going to spend the rest of the year enjoying motherhood."

The blank stares suggested this information was old news. Shoot, they probably knew I had a job before the principal made the call. Gotta love small-town ways.

After surviving my first day, I drove up the gravel road leading to Marcus' hay fields. I held my breath as the road curved around a copse of trees before the view opened to the formidable wooden structure towering in the center of open land.

I parked my Volvo next to Carlisle's Harley and walked across the field toward the small group gathered in the shade of the massive trebuchet. Boulders, pallets, and heavy moving equipment lay scatted about the pasture like a giant's forgotten playthings, and I felt myself shrinking as I walked under the shadow of the massive medieval device.

"Hey, you made it," Marcus called.

"Hey, Esme, Bella," I said as I shook hands with Carlisle and Marcus.

Esme and Bella grinned as Marcus cleared his throat and said, "This is Carmen. Carmen, this is Carlisle's nephew, Edward."

She rubs against Marcus' arm to reach over to take my hand. "Nice to meet you, Edward," she said with the spicey lilt of an accent.

"You too, ma'am."

Carlisle clapped his hands. "Okay, we've got just enough daylight for one throw. Let's see what this monster can do."

Marcus mounted a tractor as the others migrated to the trebuchet. The silence of the dying day shattered as the tractor roared to life, and Marcus felt the need to rev the engine a little more as Carmen squealed and clapped. Carlisle gave Esme a pointed look, and she and Bella held onto each other as they laughed at his consternation.

Dwarfed by the steel wheel of the war machine, Carlisle watched the tractor's movement with hawk-like attention.

"This boulder is close to one thousand pounds. Its weight distributes differently than Dale's, but it'll give us an idea of what the trebuchet can do. We've never pushed it to this level," Carlisle called over the noise.

I nodded and asked, "What's the most it's ever thrown?"

"Last year, six hundred ninety-seven pounds," Carlisle said as the tractor aligned the rock with the pallet.

The boom pole lifted the rock and slid it over the pallet. Carlisle stepped forward, unhooked the chains, and began checking the instrumentation. "Okay, are we ready?" he called.

The women stepped back, and I took my place next to Carlisle as Marcus pulled a rope to release a lever. Slowly, as if moving underwater, the machine began to move. A giant bucket of counterbalance moved backward, causing the momentum to send the long arm forward, launching the pallet and boulder into the air.

Time seemed to stop with the massive rock airborne, and when it hit the ground, shattering the wooden pallet, time seemed to move in double time as the group broke into cheers and ran toward the crater holding the half-buried rock.

Carlisle handed the tape measurer to Marcus, and he and Carmen measured the distance, talking and giggling as they worked.

"It's not just about distance with the trebuchet. It's the weight that's the true test," Carlisle explained.

Bella leaned toward us and added, "It's the air-cannons that are all about the distance, and they have the noisy pizazz that brings in the crowds." Carlisle looked to take offense, and she quickly added, "but the trebuchets have history, size, and massive power that brings on the awe."

"Damn straight," Carlisle said as he threw his arm over Esme's shoulder.

The group worked at resetting the trebuchet and bringing the equipment into the barn. I helped Bella clean up the destroyed pallet before following her to Dale tucked safely in a horse stall. She rested her arms on the stall railing. "The picture didn't do him justice. Seeing him in person, he's massive."

"I know." I cocked my head and added, "he's going to be heavier at one end. He's much thicker here, see?"

"Yeah, they'll need to compensate in the placement to find balance."

We walked out of the barn to find Carlisle sitting on his bike with Esme draped across him.

"She's my ride," Bella said with a groan.

"Looks like you could be a while. You want a ride?"

"Yes."

"Good." I couldn't help but grin as she began to walk toward my car.

"Hey Carlisle, taking Bella home," I yelled.

Carlisle waved without coming up for air.

Silence filled my car as I pulled out of Marcus' drive. I glanced over to see a nervous Bella. Gone was the attitude that always kept me on my back foot, but instead of feeling the home-court advantage, I empathized. She'd made me feel this way since we met.

"Um, so did you grow up here?" I asked to break the tension.

By the light of the dashboard, I could see her grab at the question like a lifeline.

"Oh, my junior year of high school, my dad got a job in Forks, Washington, and when they moved, I stayed to finish school here."

"You lived with your aunt?"

A gentle smile graced her as she said, "Yeah, she's great, a big sister, second mom, and best friend all wrapped up in one sweet tie-dye package."

I smiled as I turned onto her street, "She's pretty great. I'm amazed Uncle Carlisle hasn't closed the deal on that one."

She snorted, "Not like he hasn't tried. She's just not the marrying type."

I pulled along the curb in front of Esme's modest ranch house and threw it into park. "You know what I think?"

I turned toward her and ran my arm across the back of the seats. "I think she's already married, and she just doesn't want the label."

Bella nodded, "Yeah, I think that too. I also think they would at least be living together if it weren't for me."

I hadn't thought of that, but I said, "Have you seen them together? If their lips aren't locked, there's this heated haze surrounding them." She laughed, and I added, "no, I think Carlisle's not willing to go all-in until she does."

"That makes sense," she nodded, "yeah, you're one smart cookie." Before I could react, she ran the back of her fingers down my cheek and opened her car door.

I opened my door and stood to watch her walk up the porch steps. "Goodnight, Ms. Swan."

She laughed as she put her keys in the lock and opened the front door. "Good night Mr. Cullen. I'll see you in your dreams."

And with that, she blew me a kiss and closed the front door.

I stood in the street until the light from a bedroom window let me know she was in and safe, then I drove home in a heated haze of my own.