Dance With Me

-The Way of Nature-

It had started to rain. A heavy onset of clouds had crept over the mountains to the west and taken the county by surprise. A pleasant surprise, but if I really thought about it, it was also a nasty omen. The area was desperate for any kind of rain, even if it was just a quick drizzle. Farmers would be out in their fields, rejoicing in the blessing. The relief would be short. It was clear those clouds were just passing through on their way to the coast. But it was welcomed.

I sat curled up in the rocking chair on the porch, chin resting on my knee. The sky was dim and grey. I listened to the raindrops strike the roof, slide down, and watched as they dripped from the side, disappeared with the others in their fall to the ground. Everett found shelter from the unexpected downpour in the auto repair shed adjacent to the station. He'd pushed one half of the door open and stacked two overturn crates in the space. He perched himself on top of them and set to biding his time by reading his pocket bible.

Jack sat beside me, but not willingly. He shifted and tutted restlessly, annoyed that he'd been left behind. Forrest had assigned him the task before he left, to watch over the station. But we all knew that meant to watch over me even though I could've run the station by myself. The place never saw much business unless it was on a day of a scheduled run.

"Wonder what's taking 'em so long," Jack said as he folded forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

Forrest had not left a happy man. Neither of us knew where he'd actually gone, but we could speculate when he'd asked Howard to accompany him. I never expected for him to take kindly to a federal officer's threats, and though I was surprised to see him decide to take a stand so quickly, I did nothing to stop him. Instead I chose to sit there, worrying myself sick until he returned. I prayed he'd be able to find a way out of this mess.

I didn't respond to Jack, but the same thought had been wracking my brain for the last hour. I hoped the length of his absence was a good thing. It could mean that they had sat down and were talking with the feds, trying to negotiate and find another way to cooperate. A way that wouldn't result in such a private and painful loss. But it could also mean that a conflict had ensued, and the brothers had been apprehended by the officers we assumed they'd gone searching for. And as it was Forrest and Howard out on the loose, death couldn't be ruled out as a feasible option either.

"Think we'll go to jail, Edie?" Jack sat back uneasily in his chair, and I turned my head to look over at him, watched as he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his vest pocket. "Bertha's gonna be so mad. She don't know what I – we, what we did down at the bridge that day. She won't marry a killer."

"You're no killer, Jack," I assured him. "Remember I'd seen what happened to y'all that day. You probably woulda been killed if you hadn't done the things you did. You're a good man. So are your brothers. And not one of you is going to jail." Not if I could help it.

He didn't seem all that reassured, but he nodded all the same.

I don't know how long we stayed out there. Long enough for the rain to pass. Long enough to greet a car stopping for gasoline. The air had cooled with the oncoming of the brief storm, but the deep glow of a late afternoon sun was beginning to peek under the overcast, warming the earth once again. It was so quiet. I couldn't bring myself to get out of that chair and find something to do, so I sat there, disappearing into my own head for a long while.

I cried a few times. When I felt my throat tighten, I'd turn away, let the tears come silently, sniff frequently. If Jack noticed, he didn't say anything and I was grateful for that. Truth is, I was realizing real quickly how much I didn't want to leave, and I was feeling awfully bitter that, out of all the souls in the world, it had to be me.

I had wanted to go off to school, but why? Because the Doctor said I should? I never really thought about that before he placed the idea in my head. Because he said this place was no home for me; because he said I was smart, and should strive for more. Said if I stuck with my passion for art, and got an education, I could work at a museum someday. Maybe even be a curator, after a whole lot of studying and travelling. It sounded wonderful because it was the Doctor saying it.

But what did I want? What did I really want? The answer came quickly now that there was a chance it'd be turning to dust right before my very eyes. I was getting a peek into my own soul, and what true aspirations lay there. I wanted peace in simplicity. I wanted to build the life I wish I could've built in Union Parish – an agrarian life, away from the chaos of a restless and unsatisfied society. Somewhere I could live slowly, and never forget to appreciate the little things; never forget to love everyone, always.

I wanted a family. I wanted a home. And I wanted it with Forrest. It was a lot like school, I suppose. It'd cost hundreds, thousands of dollars, and years of my life. Endless dedication, constant preparation. But I didn't need to go away to do that. I would be rewarded for my efforts daily; when I laid my children down to sleep at night, when I woke beside their father in the morning. I wouldn't have to compete because there was no competition in love. I wouldn't have to waste precious time in classrooms because life was satisfied in letting you to learn as you go.

It wasn't right and it wasn't fair to have my chance at that kind of life taken away from me. I wasn't asking for much.

Jack saw them coming before I did. His head shot up, alert like a hound dog and he stood when he recognized the vehicle heading down the road. When I looked, I recognized the old truck, too, could hear it bump and rattle as it drew closer. Jack took a few strides forward, pausing on the top step of the porch, and we watched as the TT rolled into the lot, coming to a halt in the empty space it occupied before leaving. Right between the Coupe and the Chevrolet.

The brothers were slow to get out of the truck. I heard a slam on the passenger side, then Howard's head peeked between the boards lining along the flatbed as he stepped around the vehicle. Forrest opened his door, climbed out, and slammed it shut behind him. He met Howard at the edge of the truck, and gave a small nod as he pocketed the keys.

They came back alive. No one was hurt. Nothing seemed out of sorts. That had to mean something.

"Jack," Howard barked from where he stood, and the youngest brother hurried down the steps. Howard met Jack halfway, and as Forrest began to walk up to the station, the two brothers headed towards Everett and the shed.

Forrest shoved his hands in his pockets, looking down at his feet as he clambered up the steps with heavy footfalls. When he reached the top step he glanced up at me from under the brim of his hat and jerked his head. I lowered my feet to the floor and pushed myself out of the chair as he took a few more steps to pull open the screen door. I passed him, and he followed me inside.

I stopped short, though. I couldn't wait to follow him to a room, or another seat, or allow him the chance to explain on his own time. I wanted to know now. "Did you work it out with them, Forrest?" I asked, watching as he removed his hat from his head and smoothed his hair out. "Are we gonna be okay?"

"Yeah," he said after a moment's consideration.

Relief rushed through me, icy mountain water in my veins. "Tell me what happened," I breathed, "What did they say?"

Forrest dropped his gaze, and slowly stepped over to drop his hat on to the counter. He hesitated, cleared his throat, and then raised his head as he turned to face me again. "Uhm. You're gon' accept the bureau's offer," he said. "And you're gonna go off to school."

I blinked a couple times, my head tilting as I let these words settle. But they wouldn't settle. They weren't supposed to. That wasn't an acceptable answer. "Why?" When he didn't answer right away, I took a step toward him. "Forrest, tell me why."

He cleared his throat again, clenched his fists at his side. "This, uhm – this trial is gonna get alotta men riled up. It's safer if you ain't around."

"So that's it, then? No way around it." He pressed his lips together, and gave a small grunt in reply. Something in me didn't want to acknowledge that he had given up so quickly, so easily. That the fight was over, and the end of us was on the horizon. I didn't understand, while the very thought of it suffocated me, how he appeared to possess the ability to simply let it be. It boiled my blood. "You know if I leave, I can't come back. They told you that, didn't they?" I almost didn't catch his stiff nod, and I was mad that I did.

Maybe I really thought he'd find a way out of it. He seemed to have a talent for it. He outsmarted death. Outsmarted law officials; found a way around taxes, around racketeering scandals, murder charges, and prison time. It scared me to my core to think I'd really have to leave him behind, but I think I was sure he'd go and fix it. He fixed everything. He always made it all right in the end. This time was no different; there had to be another way. I couldn't be the only thing in this world that legitimized his innocence.

But I guess I was. And I guess he couldn't make things all right this time, couldn't fix it, couldn't find a way around this. The truth shined on the situation in a whole new light. It wasn't bright with hope, either. It dimmed and flickered, like a lamp out of oil when I'm right in the middle writing a letter in the dead of night. My peace wasn't coming. Not anytime soon. Forrest wouldn't be building us a home by the lake. I wouldn't be having his children. And it looked like he'd already made peace with that.

I'd really be leaving. Letting go of everything I loved all over again.

"Edna –," Forrest began, but I held up my hand, and took a step back. For once, I didn't want to hear him say a word. At that moment, his voice was painfully unbearable.

"Don't talk to me," I said, and didn't flinch at the spitting austerity in my own voice. I tried to look at him, but found I couldn't raise my eyes to his face. So I turned away, shaking my head, already feeling my eyes begin to water as I swallowed the lump in my throat. My face contorted and I shut my eyes tight, but I forced myself to take a deep breath and walk. I thought about going upstairs, but being confined within four walls would drive me nuts. So I walked straight down the hall and out the back door, desiring comfort in the serenity of open space.

My tire swing would be wet, but I approached it anyway. I grasped the dripping chains, and eyed the layer of water shining on the rubber. God was punishing me for something. Or if it was His test for me that I had to overcome, then it was a cruel one. Or maybe He'd forgotten about me and left the devil to have his way. I didn't understand. My fate was decided by other men so quickly, without regards to what it'd do to me. Without a care as to how it'd turn my life completely upside down. It didn't matter to them, as long as it was to their convenience. How can they do that to another human being so easily? It wasn't right. It wasn't fair.

I dropped my chin, leaning my head against my arm as a quiet sob pushed its way through my lips. They'd make sure I'd go to that university. They'd want to keep a close eye on me, a key witness to their case. If I refused, they'd use Forrest as their weapon. They always would, because they knew they could. They'd intimidate me by threatening him, and every single party involved, including myself, knew it would work every time. We were bound together in this. The feds thought this through, and they worked hard to close their loops. Our fates were decided the moment they chose to open this case, and the moment they realized we were of use to them.

The back door slammed and I looked over my shoulder, taking a breath and wiping my eyes when I saw Forrest. I wasn't expecting that. He left me to my own when I was troubled, since it made him uncomfortable. He never knew what to do. It made me angry to think that he finally figured it out. Now, when it wouldn't matter for much longer. He was doing everything right for once, at the worst possible time.

He stepped over the weeds and grass, and when he was close enough he reached for me. I pushed his arm away. "Don't touch me," I warned. If he was done with me, I wanted to be done with him. If he could give it all up so easily, then he didn't deserve my kindness any longer. I guess he didn't catch the hint because he tried again, and so I pushed him away, and shoved hard at his chest with both hands. "Don't touch me, Forrest," I said, this time louder.

His upper body swayed, but he stood his ground, a test of strength, and I wondered if he thought this was a game. I wasn't playing any kind of game. I didn't want to touch him. I didn't want to see him. But I did want to make him feel what I was feeling.

I pushed at him again, and he swayed. Then again, putting my whole body into it, and he took a step back. I grunted in frustration, my face flushing as my eyes stung and blurred. I balled my fist and struck him in the chest. I pushed him again and then struck him with my other fist. A sob escaped me, and then another, and I gasped for breath as I threw my fists blindly into the body in front of me. I hated him. I hated him, and I hoped he was hurting like I was.

Large, calloused hands, strong and familiar suddenly grasped my wrists at once. I cried out in anger, struggling to free myself. "Let go of me!" I sobbed, pushing and pulling in his grip. "Let go!" If he wouldn't release my arms, then I'd swing forward and make him hit himself. But it was to no avail, and I cried and cried as I resisted his grip, desperately longing to be free of him.

He forced my arms down and inward, elbows bending taut at my sides, and turned me around. He wrapped himself over me, a hulking shield, crossing my arms and holding them tightly to my chest. I tried to pull away, but he had me pinned to him, and the weight of him against my back had me dropping to my knees in the wet grass. He followed me down, and his grip did not lessen. I could feel his warmth all around me, so wonderfully unwelcomed. His breath in my ear, ragged with his effort to keep me still. His hold on me tight, but not painful. I lost myself.

"Shhh," I could hear, and felt him press his cheek to my hair. "Shhh, s'alright." His words were just air in my ear, but I heard them all the same.

"How can you say that?" My question was a stutter between gasping breaths, and it was left unanswered.

Forrest fell back onto his behind and took me with him. He straightened my legs out with his foot, and I could feel the water soak through my skirt onto my skin. He held me like that until my fits died, and my stiff, struggling muscles spent their energy and relaxed. When he released my arms, they dropped to my lap and stayed there. My mind was no longer a cacophony of bitter excuses and pointed fingers. Only one thought ran circles in my mind, over and over again until it numbed my insides.

I loved Forrest. I loved him more than anything in the world. And I was losing him.


"[Forrest] felt unmoved by the news; he knew that they would come under his reach again. It wasn't vengeance he sought anyway, rather something more like a reckoning, a balance. It wasn't something you had to seek." The Wettest County in the World, Matt Bondurant, pg. 78.

Hello! I was hoping to capture the essence of a confused mind here. I was hoping for Edna to be discombobulated and irrational. Because it is always only after a moment of torment that you realize, 'wow, I should've handled that a lot differently.' You don't think about what you say or do before it happens; you just feel. You feel a lot at once, and you don't have time to justify or analyze why you're thinking and feeling the way you do. I think Forrest would've stepped up to the plate on this one and been there for her, because he'd just made a huge decision on their part in the fate of their future, and he knew exactly what kind of impact it would have on her (tune in to next week's chapter...).

Here is my shameless self-promotion of my new Eames story! Aw yeah, I went ahead and did it. If you're interested, stop by and take a peek! Let me know your thoughts. I think it has potential to be one hell of an epic story. No subtlety on this one, we're going all out if we're diving into the world of business espionage and dream-share.

Thank you for your thoughts and your support, you lovely, lovely souls. I look forward to hearing what you have to say about this one, and I promise you that the rest of this story will not leave you nursing a broken heart after every chapter. Too much angst sucks the life out of a beautiful story. Without giving too much away, let's just say it's morning in America, folks.