NaNoWriMo: Day 19

Buckley decided that his mother would just have to stay in South Florida if he was going to relocate to Putnam County to take the job at Cypress Estates. The job of moving her the hoard that she had no intention of letting go of was too daunting a task to consider. Soon he would have to call her and tell her of his plan, but not yet. Then there would be the task of traveling down to the Res and getting the rest of his things. He had found a pleasant trailer near to Cypress Estates to stay in and the rent was the right price. Rhodes was paying him a decent salary for his services, which really felt like stealing now that the menacing gator seemed to be dead. But there were other pests to keep in check and the work was steady at least.

Buckley missed Stella now that she was gone. They had not spoken since she returned to school after the fire and he wasn’t sure if he should try to get in contact with her or not.

Stella also missed Buckley, but she was trying her best to focus on her studies and finishing her school work so that she could graduate and get on with her life. That wasn’t stopping her from looking for teaching jobs in Putnam County though.

Selena and Rhodes were busy planning their wedding and Miss Emery was busy trying to thwart it at every turn.

Rhodes mother was difficult woman. A hard woman. She was the kind of woman that barked rather than spoked to you and made you always on edge when you were near to her. Rhodes loved her dearly, but he couldn’t stand to be around her for very long before she started to bring out the worst in him. It was for this reason that he ultimately decided to leave her where she was and move to Putnam County without her. She was his mother and she might need him, but he needed his sanity more. She was tough and would most likely be able to do for herself better than if he tried to take care of and look after her. She wouldn’t take to being kept, he had decided.
            He tried not to worry about her collecting and he hoped that she would find a way to sell more than she brought in. He knew that finding “good deals” was one of the only things that brought the old woman any joy at this point and he was loathe to take that from her. He wanted to be a good and dutiful son, but more than that, all he had ever wanted to do was to make her happy. It seemed that no matter what he’d ever done in his life, he’d never been able to achieve that end. The woman was miserable beyond belief and she made everyone else miserable right along with her.

Buckley used to think that her disagreeable nature surfaced after the death of his father, but that wasn’t the case at all. That was just when it became directed at him. Prior to that, her wrath and sharp tongue had been exercised on the old man instead. In short, she had always been unpleasant, she had simply once been more pleasant to Buckley.

Buckley felt something of a kinship with Rhodes over their deceased fathers and aged mothers. Perhaps that was part of the reason he wanted to work at Cypress Estates. He wanted to see what a somewhat functional mother/son relationship was supposed to look like. The only problem being that Rhodes and his mother did not have the most functional of relationships, but to Buckley’s outside view they looked perfectly normal and well put together.

The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence, as they say.

When Buckley was a little boy, his mother had been prone to keeping things that he had wanted to get rid of when he cleaned or decluttered his room. She would exclaim “You’re not getting rid of this are you?”

“Yes,” he would reply, exasperated with his mother’s need to scrutinize everything he wished to throw out.

She had been so poor as a girl the thought of throwing something out was appalling to her, but the fact of the matter was that she was not poor anymore and you simply cannot keep everything that comes into your house. Not everything in valuable. Not everything is a “collectible.” Some things are quite simply junk and need to get the hell out of the house – either to be re-homed or to be thrown away.

Of course it was the idea of re-homing that had allowed things to get really out of control with her “business.” She was certain that there were people out there that wanted all the “treasures” that other people were all too happy to throw out, and so they all came home with her until she could find them new homes. And there they sat. New homes never came. And more things came to pile on top of them. Every week, more things. The sheer amount of things had reached the point where it was unmanageable.

Buckley had taken to traveling around the state taking care of nuisance wildlife so that he didn’t have to be home and his mother issue coupled with his grief over Stella, there was a little part of him that hoped he wouldn’t have to come home again to deal with any of it. There were worse ways to die than being killed by a gator or a snake, weren’t there?

About snakes – that was the majority of Buckley’s job at Cypress Estates since the gator had gone missing in the fire. The cabbage fields were lousy with snakes. It was Buckley’s job to determine whether a snake was dangerous or not and to dispose of said snake appropriately depending on its nature. He was not very fond of killing snakes, but thankfully his presence about the place saved the lives of more snakes than it took. He was able to identify the harmless snakes and move them out of the field and into the swamplands near the river. This was a temporary solution as the snakes always seemed to find their ways back to the fields, but it helped in the short term and it was better than having the foreman shoot any snake the workers came across.

            The biggest concern for Buckley was cotton mouths. These venomous snakes, also known as water moccasins were far more common around the place than rattle snakes or coral snakes due to the swampy areas that surrounded the fields. He was loathe to kill them when he should encounter one, but her knew that his mercy could likely cost a man his life, so he would shoot them with the shotgun he carried around in the truck Rhodes let him have.

            The truck didn’t really belong to Buckley, but he could use it whenever he wanted so it was his in practice anyway. Rhodes was more or less selling it to him on a very low payment plan.

            One had to wonder why Rhodes was being so generous to Buckley – the truth of that matter was that he liked having someone around who wasn’t a sycophant. Buckley wasn’t interested in what Rhodes could give him, he just wanted to do his job and do it well. Rhodes liked and respected this in him. The other men that Rhodes kept around him, even Leland, were too free – too easily swayed by a good time. Rhodes liked Buckley’s no nonsense approach to things. He appreciated the fact that Buckley never drank and never took part in any of the parties. He was basically paying Buckley to be sober, and that was worth the money.

           

            Stella was in her last week of finals at UWF and she had no idea what she was going to do for the summer. One thing was certain: She did not want to go back to South Florida. She had had a lot of time to think about things between her and Buckley and about the child that her family had made her give up and she was angry. So angry. And she was so in love with Buckley she could barely see straight. It was a miracle that she had been able to finish her finals at all as tied in knots as she was over the boy.

            But she knew that she had to keep her eye on the prize, as stupid as she thought it was. She had to get her degree and move on to the next chapter of her life.

            She wondered what was so great about her family that made her so afraid of losing them – and didn’t she have a family – broken and scattered though it was – with Buckley now anyway? They had made a daughter with their love.

            Stella thought back to their high school romance. It seemed so long ago now.

            She remembered the way that they would spend hours in her bed when no one was home (no one was ever home, were they? That had been part of the problem.) naked in each others arms marveling at the beauty of one another. He would climb in her window at night and sleep curled in her tiny twin bed with his fingers twisted in her hair. She loved the way he made her pillows smell like him.

            Her parents thought that her dating the half breed was just a phase that she would grow out of. They had no idea about his wicked sense of humor or the way his eyes danced when he smiled. Or the fact that the only person who could really get him to smile at all was her. Or the fact that when he did smile it would light up the night. Or that he had the kindest and gentlest soul of anyone she had ever met.

            Hard to believe all that and he became a trapper.

            But he loved her so tenderly. He kissed her so gently. His soul and her soul were made of the same thing – or so she thought.

            She wondered now if she was making a huge mistake forsaking him for her bigoted family. He was all she could think about since she’d left him all those years ago. Perhaps it was time to stop fighting her heart and to go back to him.

            But there was the money to consider.

            There’s always the money to consider.

            Being disowned would mean that she was cut out of the family money, which wouldn’t be so bad if she could get a teaching job, but there was this terrible nagging fear that ate away at her in the back of her mind that she wasn’t good enough and she wasn’t ever going to really be able to take care of herself.

            But Buckley could take care of her, she thought.

            That was the worst idea. She didn’t want him to have to bear her as a burden.

            This back and forth was interrupted by none other than Brad, as he popped in to say hello to Stella on his way to the commons for dinner. Things had been awkward between the two of them ever since the night at Herlin Hall when he had made his feelings known to her, but he hoped to put that behind them now.

            “Hey Stella, I’m going to grab a bite to eat. You want to come with?”

            Stella looked at the final paper she was writing. It was dark out and she had been trying to write for hours, only to be thinking about Buckley and her situation instead.

            “Sure, I’ll go with you.”

            “Great,” Brad said smiling.

            The commons were far enough from the dorm that Brad and Stella had a short walk to get back when they were done with dinner. The night was dark and there were very few people around when they got back to Stella’s room. Brad followed her inside and then quickly closed the door.

            “What are you doing?” Stella asked.

            “I just thought we could hang out.”

            “Um, okay. But I have this paper to finish.”

            He pushed Stella into a wall and began kissing her violently.

            “Brad! What the hell are you doing?”

            “I can’t help myself, Stella. I love you. I need to be with you.”

            “This is not the way.”

            “C’mon Stella. I know you want it.”

            “No! Stop!”

            But it was too late. He very quickly had his way with her, all the while kissing her. There came a point where Stella became too weak and humiliated to fight back so she just cried.
            When he was finished, he kissed her tear stained cheek and left, as though nothing had happened. Once he was gone, she collapsed to the floor and wept and wept.

            Stella did not call the RA. She did not call the police. She did not call the hospital. She called Buckley. She didn’t even know what to say. When he picked up the phone, she couldn’t even speak, she was sobbing so hard. Finally, she was able to compose herself enough to say three words: “Come get me.”

            Buckley drove through the night and arrived at UWF early the next morning to find Stella in much the same state that Brad had left her in. She refused to tell Buckley who did it, all she did was cry and cry. She let him run her a bath. After being violated so, she wanted to be around the only person who ever made her feel completely safe and cared for.

            She didn’t want him to see her naked. She wondered if after this she would ever be intimate with anyone ever again. She felt so unclean. She scrubbed herself raw in the bath, and cried even more. She wanted to wash the inside of herself with bleach to get what was left of Brad out of her, but she knew that was unrealistic. It was just how she felt.

            After the bath, she put on some pajamas and got into bed. Buckley sat on the bed with her and cradled her head in his arms and ran his fingers through her hair. He didn’t say anything. What was there to say? She was not interested in talking.

            They lay there for hours, until finally she asked him: “Will you stay with me?”

            “For how long?”

            “I graduate in a week.” She said.

            “Won’t your family be upset if I show up at your graduation?” his words stung.

            “I don’t know if I care anymore, Buckley.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “I love you.”

            “I’m not going to let you throw away your family for me, Stella.”

            “Let’s not be hasty. Just stay with me until the week is over? I don’t want to be alone.”

            With Buckley gone, the gator whom everyone had assumed had burned up in the fire saw fit to reappear. This time the creature was bold enough to venture out of the vicinity of Herlin Hall and meander up the drive toward the old farm house. Leland was the one who saw it, as he was coming up the drive to visit Rhodes the Tuesday evening. Having a shotgun in the truck with him, he took a shot at the beast, but missing caused the thing to skitter back into the brush along the side of the drive. The low palmettos and sawgrass rustled with the movement of the gator, and Leland fired two more shots in the direction of the movement, but to no avail. The thing was on the move again.

            When Leland told Rhodes what he had seen, Rhodes couldn’t believe it.

            “You must have seen a different gator. A new one.”

            “I’m telling you, it was the same one.”

            “Well how would you know? Don’t they all look the same?”

            “This one was a little singed.”

            “Now you’re just messing with me.

            “Not, I’m serious.”

            No one knew when Buckley would be back so all that was left to do was to pray that the thing stayed gone for the remainder of Buckley’s absence.

            Speaking of prayer, now is as good a time as any to address the matter of Buckley’s learning to pray. He didn’t. He tried – earnestly he did, but all his prayers amounted to was the feeling that he was talking to himself. However, now that he was with Stella and she was hurting so terribly from the wrong that had been done to her, he decided that he might give prayer another shot. If there was a God and he was listening, then Stella deserved some peace by way of divine intervention.

            It should be said that Buckley was rather disappointed in his inability to get on board with faith. He wanted to believe in something but he had sadly found the only thing he could believe in was himself. He wished he thought there was a God or a Great Spirit, but if there was, he was rather certain that entity was wholly uninterested in what the human race was getting up to. But he wanted to believe. Belief looked like it made things easier to bear. As it was, he had nothing to rely on but his own resilience and sometimes that asset wore thin.

            Buckley’s lack of faith did not stem from a poor religious upbringing. Quite the opposite, actually. His mother had had him in the First Baptist Church every time the doors opened from a very small age and there had been a time when he had believed. He had never been very adept at prayer, but he had believed that God was good and that He was there. But, just like Santa Clause, age brought about doubt and by the time Buckley was in high school he had some serious questions about the religion he was brought up in.

            This of course did not sit well with his mother.