Maw didn't raise no fool, and she didn't raise no coward, neither. Emmett thinks he might just about be the only person what's got their head on straight.
I sent this to my (Missouri-raised Kentuckian-rooted dramaturg) husband to proof the accent and he said "the regionalization is too heavy, you have to take some of it out," and I said "Emmett was born in 1915" and he said "the regionalization isn't heavy enough, you should probably add more," so I'm going to consider this a happy medium and leave it there. If it's not readable to you, let me know and I'll send you a plaintext version!
"Anyhow," I said, feeling tired of lolling around and sure as shootin' about what needed to get done, "I'm fixin' to git about it."
I stood up, chunked the remote pretty near through the TV screen, and left.
Left the room, anyhow. The sun was still out, and I wasn't to set a foot outside the townhouse 'til it set. It woulda been crowded if we'd all been there, but even just us four was too many, by my reckoning. We was between identities at the moment. There wasn't s'posed to be a need for new ones for a right few years yet, so we was laying low, using temporary IDs and trying not to draw too many eyes. We all could just about pass as adults, long as Alice stayed away from the winders. Edward was playing like Carlisle and Esme's son in the other Vancouver safehouse. Jasper was the workinest I'd ever seen him to get new permanent identities for us, but it wasn't as simple as aging up the paper people we'd been supposed to slip into after Forks.
"I'm not buying you another one," my Rosie hollered from the garage, where she was tinkering. I put a hand on my heart at the thought. Not much better than a hot woman on top of a hot rod—unless it might be a hot woman under a hot rod.
I almost headed over yonder to sit a spell, but something stopped me. My Rosie and I was having a ruckus. It wasn't the first time, but it was sure as hell the worst.
"Yes ma'am," I hollered back, but my heart wasn't in it. Most times I could sweet-talk her out of being riled with me, but my dander was still up about her vote.
I en't run from a problem afore, and like tarnation I'll run from one now.
People had called me dumber'n a coal bucket, back on the mountain, but that ain't true. I had just as many thoughts as the next feller, I just didn't see fit to get gaumed* up in 'em. I hadn't never met a problem I couldn't fix faster by hitting it head-on than trying to pussyfoot around up on it from behind.
It coulda had something to do with how most problems, when they saw me coming, smartened up and fixed themselves. Jasper could holler about conservation of energy 'til he was blue in the face, but the way I figured, problems fixing themselves was about as conservated as could be.
I liked Jasper just fine, most of the time. We got along like a house a-fire. But he was a gentleman farmer's son, and me, I come from up the mountains. I only hid my accent so's people wouldn't recollect** me too well. Big old mountain of a boy talking mountain talk? I stuck out like a sore thumb. Jasper? He hid his accent so people took him serious-like. And that right there was the difference betwixt me and Jasper. He thought every-thang was a fight. But me, I knowed there was a difference 'tween a problem and a fight. And I picked my fights right careful-like. That way I didn't gotta fight so many of 'em.
But daggum it, I was picking this one. Yeller, the lot of 'em. Jasper's mad as a hornet and fixin' to burn the barn 'cause he don't like the color of the paint. Edward's nervouser'n a bug in a henhouse. Carlisle…
Well, Carlisle was right cumfluttering.*** I didn't rightly know what to make of him. I could no more judge Carlisle than the good Lord himself. Just—he was wrong. They was all wrong, excepting Alice, the only other vote for stay. Edward had put up a fight, but he'd give up in the face of—of—of—well, I wasn't sure just how come he'd give up. Jasper and Rosie's arguments for duty to the family? Esme's silence? Carlisle's…
There it was again. Some-thang about Carlisle changed Edward's mind.
I could make what my baby brother—and how irr'tated he'd get when I called him that—would call an educated guess. Not being able to protect his woman from James musta shook him up something fierce, even if he didn't let on. The notion of THE VOLTURI—Carlisle always said the words like they was all capitalized—looking straight at his woman, and only him to protect her, woulda been too much. He'd leave, if it meant they never seen her.
And that was dumb. You could have more brains than a schoolteacher and still be dumb if you didn't use 'em. Like hell he'd be the only one standing between 'em. I'd be there, and if'n I was there, my Rosie'd be there—even if she was in a conniption. And if'n we was there, Jasper'd be too, even if he was all riled up. And 'twixt the four of us, and Alice, what with her Seein', well, I dared even THE VOLTURI to come head-on agin us.
Besides, if it was THE VOLTURI on the other end of that telephone call, they already knowed all about her. And if they knowed that, I didn't reckon us putting distance 'tween us and her would save her hide. Or ours. No, if it was THE VOLTURI on the phone, we'd be better off following our own lights, by my reckoning.
If. They was basing a whole passel of assumptions on one little word. Just acause someone says ciao don't mean they're Iy-talian. I reckon the tail's waggin' the dog. Bella says they was some Spanish woman. If'n you ask me, Jasper oughtta be lookin' a little closer t'home on that one.
My mooning was interrupted when my phone rang. The high-falutin' phone, the one I had to answer because it meant someone was on the other end to jaw about something what I had to pay attention to. I sighed and straightened up, slipping easily into the Yankee**** accent what was almost a second skin to me by now.
"Emmett speaking."
"It's Allen. I'm calling about the Tennessee property. Do you have a minute?"
I oughtta. I didn't want to. "Make it quick."
"We've had an offer to flip the land quickly, at a profit. Should I go ahead and take it?"
It sounded good, but… "Who's the buyer?"
"I hoped you wouldn't ask."
"The buyer, Allen." It riled me to repeat myself.
"Timber."
"Fuck no." I'd learnt how to swear like a carpetbagger**** up on the mountain in a pure act of rebellion, and not a day passed what I didn't practice my lessons.***** "No timber. Matter of fact, if you hear of them making offers to the neighbors, buy the land out from under them."
"Come on, Emmett," my agent complained. "Industry's good for the neighborhood. Jobs."
"Clearcutting," I countered. "Not on my watch."
You couldn't grow up in the mountains without loving the land. It was a different kind of beautiful. I missed the forests back home pretty near every day. The forests around Forks was almost as nice, but now we'd gone and left them too. I better git on out this townhouse and in the trees.
Allen grumbled something about balancing the portfolio. I optioned to ignore him. "Thanks, Allen. I know you're always looking out for me. You have a good one, you hear me?"
"Same to you, Emmett."
If I'd my druthers, I'd live so far back in the woods you'd have to pipe sunshine in. No timber man would ever set foot on my mountain.
That made me recollect my first thought. I'm fixin' to git about it. Someone had to. That Jezebel was still out there, and Carlisle was too wrung out to hunt her down.
"Don't," Alice's little voice piped up behind me. I wasn't surprised I hadn't heard her before. She moved quieter than a shadow'n twice as fast. "It doesn't go well."
"I can't sit around like a bump on a log," I said, turning to her. My littlest sister—my only sister, sure enough, but sure enough my littlest one. I had most nigh two feet on her. She reminded me of my littlest sister back in the mountains, the one I'd feathered into a bear for. "You know I'm right."
"I know." She looked right miserable. Peaked, even for a vampire. As far as I could recollect, she and Jasper hadn't never fractioned before. I didn't like when things betwixt my Rosie and I was airish†, but we'd patched up plenty of ruckuses. Truth of fact, the patching up was worth the falling out.
"Will she be a-comin' for us, like Rosie thinks?"
Alice tipped her head like a—well. There wasn't no easy way of comparing Alice to anything, truth be told. She was a critter all her own. "No," she said, drawing the word out slow-like, like she was pouring molasses, "I don't think so. No. Well," and she tipped her head the other way, like the future was different from a different angle, "not now, at least. Not until she's very ready. She doesn't fight unless she thinks she'll win."
"You only met her the once-like," I said, just to hear what I needed to hear.
She spread out her fingers with a little smile, looking at something far away. "Patterns," she hummed. "I can see her all around the edges. I don't need to meet someone to know what they'll do. A thousand little things tell me. Her absence is a presence. She went looking for James… always for James… the man who killed the man who saved me… it's Bella."
"Then the wolves'll git her," I rumbled, nose out of joint. It oughtta been me.
"No." Alice shook her head. "There's something missing. Something… I need more. I can't see it. I don't… hm."
Her eyes was completely unfocused now. I knowed The Sight when I seen it. I waited, playing like I was patient even though inside I was ate up with restlessness.
"You'll answer the phone," she said, dream-like, like she was talking to the moon. "It's okay. It'll be okay, soon. You'll answer the phone."
"Well then," I said, drawing the words out good and long, "I reckon it'll be all right."
Alice began to wobble like a top and I caught her gentle-like and set her back on her feet. "Thanks," she breathed, shaking off the Seeing.
"It don't 'mount to nothin'." You'ns wasn't born in a barn, my Maw used to say.
She smiled up at me, bright as a new penny. "I can always count on you," she said, and then walked off like we'd said our goodbyes. Alice never seemed to recollect things like that, but she didn't mean no harm by it and I knowed better'n to take it personal-like. It was just her way.
"Well then," I said again, feeling considerably cheered up, "that's that. It's in the good Lord's hands now." I was gonna answer the phone when it rang, and then we'd really be cooking with gas. If Alice said it, that was how it was gonna be.
And bein's that was settled, I turned my steps towards the garage, with a little bit of patching up on my mind.
*messed up, stuck, tangled
**remember
***confusing
****folks from off the mountain, what ain't no better than they oughtta be
*****"No, that's just regular swearing up in the mountains," my husband said. "Which group of kids did you hang out with?" I asked. "Oh," he said, recollecting** his wild youth. "Oh." He then retracted his objection to the line.
†chilly