Chapter 3
“There may be times when we are powerless to prevent injustice, but there must never be a time when we fail to protest.”- Elie Wiesel
Beebe, Arkansas is a small town, to me anyways. The sign as I ride in says Population 7,400. It’s not quite the cityscape that I grew up in but it actually looks nice enough. I’m physically drained from being on the bike for so many days and hours. Even when I stand I feel like I’m still vibrating slightly. I can’t imagine anyone would ever look for me in Podunk, Arkansas, so I stop. I walk around the little downtown area and I decide that I like what I see. Small businesses line the main drag and it’s flat. So flat here. I’ve never been anywhere that looked like this before. It’s strange to see so much dust blowing around from all the dirt roads. Old trucks and cars line the main drag. It’s almost like a step back in time. No one even bothers to glance my way as I meander around. Trees are scattered about here and there, and people mill about at a slow pace, nothing like where I’m from. I like how it feels here, like people mind their own.
I wander around until I find a little real estate office. The air inside smells like smoke and stale coffee. The woman behind the front desk looks thoroughly irritated at my arrival. Her blonde hair is teased out to epic proportions and her nails are fake and too long and blood red. I explain that I need a place to rent and she shuffles through some papers and hands me a stack before going back to whatever she was doing on her computer. The clacking of her nails on the keyboard grates on my nerves as I pick out a few options to look at, hopefully today, and hand the rest of the stack back to her.
Three hours later I have my very own trailer just south of the downtown area. Five hours later I have a crappy car that I paid three hundred dollars for after I saw it sitting on the side of the road, and six hours later I’m sitting on the floor of my new home staring at the backpack. I crawl over to it and slowly unzip it. I’m still not sure I want to know exactly what I’ve taken. I turn it upside down and let the contents fall out around me. Shit. What the hell have I gotten myself into? This is bad, so very bad. Bundles of cash sit on the floor now, surrounding me. What the hell have I gotten myself into? This is bad, so very bad. Counting the money in the backpack I realize there’s more than I anticipated, so much in fact that I don't think I need to work for years. I don’t know if Cane’s errands for Ezra always amounted to this much cash flowing through our apartment but I know one thing: I’m not supposed to have it. I’m screwed. Really screwed. My breathing becomes labored at the shock at seeing this much cash. It floors me, but the realization that it’s sitting on my floor piled around me exacerbates my panic. This much money doesn’t go missing under anyone’s watch, let alone Ezra’s. Beyond his nephew dying, the money is just one more reason for him to hunt for me. Someone will be looking for their money and when Ezra can’t produce it things will get messy. I’m in so far over my head with this. Shock takes over and I scoop all the money back into the pack and zip it up. I don’t want to look at it. It’s tainted. I need a plan. I run a finger through the various pockets, sweeping them for any treasures or clues but find none. Did Cane always have this much cash sitting in this bag? If all Ezra’s business errands amassed such small fortunes then I’ve been truly blind to what had been going on. I thought the Ash operation was much smaller. I’m going to die. It’s certain.
The bike is tucked safely behind the trailer with a tarp over it out of sight, and my new-to-me car is parked in the driveway, or rather the patch of dirt that accompanies my trailer. At midnight I drift off to sleep in the fetal position on the floor of my new bedroom, feeling more lost and alone than ever.
“Clean up in aisle four,” the intercom boomed throughout the store. I stared at the spilled milk at my feet and felt my face flush. The gallon had just slipped out of my hand and when it hit the grocery store floor it popped like a water balloon. A dark-haired head bobbed around the corner and my breath caught. Cane Ash - THE Cane Ash - was headed right for me. All two hundred pounds of muscle and brawn was stalking toward me. His amber eyes held mine captive as his mouth turned into a smirk. “Hey. We have history together, right?” he’d asked, stopping on the other side of the spilt milk.
“Uh…ya. We do,” I muttered like an idiot. Those amber orbs danced with amusement as I spoke.
“Billy’s on his way over with the mop. You don’t have to wait here, you know,” he’d chuckled as he set up a wet floor sign I hadn’t noticed him carrying. I sucked in a deep breath and try to clear my head.
“Right. Okay then. See you tomorrow,” I said as coolly as I could muster. I took two steps before tossing, “in history, I mean,” over my shoulder. My third step is where my coolness tragically ended. I stepped right in the puddle of milk on the floor and lost my footing. I heard my name yelled just before my rear hit the floor, followed by my head.
I blinked hard a couple times as I heard my name being gently called. “Just sit up slowly, okay?” Cane said in a dreamy voice. I think every girl in the school had had a crush on him at one point or another. His always-tanned Cuban skin, graciously passed onto him from his mother, his dark brown hair and translucent amber eyes really did make him stunning. Besides being hot as sin he was also seemingly a generally nice guy. Sure, he didn’t do too well in school and it was rumored he got in a lot of fights, but every interaction my friends or I had had with him he’d always been a gentleman. The back of my head throbbed as I finally opened my eyes fully and everything came into focus. Cane was staring intently at me, worry etched across his handsome face. “What happened?” I croaked, taking in my surroundings. Right. I fell. In the grocery store. In front of Cane Ash. Shoot. Me. Now. I could feel the heat creep up my neck and warm my cheeks. He chuckled lightly before winking, “You’re alright. Come on, I’ll help you up.” He smiled and reached his hand out to me and I hesitantly took it. His palm was rough and warm and strong. It felt like heaven. I tamped down the butterflies in my stomach and cleared my throat. “Thanks,” I said before swiftly walking out of the store, promptly jumping in my car and slamming the door shut.
I banged my head off the steering wheel three times and chastised myself out loud for being such an enormous dork. I turned to the passenger seat to fish my keys from my purse so I could get the hell outta there when I realized my purse wasn’t on the seat like it should be. Three loud knocks on the window made me clutch my chest and scream like a little girl. “You left this,” Cane said through the glass while he dangled my purse in the air. I’m sure my face was beet red by then, again, but there was nothing I could do about it at that point. I opened the door and stepped out slowly.
“Welp. This day cannot get any more embarrassing,” I crowed nervously at him.
“What if I told you there’s a hole in the crotch of your pants?” he deadpanned. Panic shot through me as my eyes bugged out and I contorted my body to a weird angle to try to see the crotch of my pants. He was kidding, obviously. I looked up at him, horrified to see pure amusement dancing on his face. His ribs were shaking and I knew he was trying his best not to laugh out loud. I couldn’t take it anymore. A loud giggle bubbled up from my gut and burst out of me over all this ridiculousness. At my laugh he let his rumble out of him. His laugh was heartfelt and completely contagious. Moments later both of us were doubled over with laughter, struggling to catch our breath. The last thirty minutes had been nothing short of bizarre. All thanks to me of course. But somehow, he’d managed to make me feel okay about it instead of horrified.
“Thanks for making my shift entertaining.” He grinned and handed my purse to me.
“You’re welcome?” I’d offered, unsure.
“Maybe we could hang out sometime?” His eyes darted over my body, head to toe, as he said this, making me blush again.
“Um, sure. I mean, if you want to,” I lamely replied.
“I asked, didn’t I?” he retorted with a grin.
“You did. Yeah.”
“Okay, well, I have to get back in… but tomorrow - in History class - I want your number.” He smirked. Stunning me, he leaned in to kiss my cheek before jogging across the parking lot back into work.
“Yeah… okay,” I mumbled to myself. Aster was never going to believe this. I pulled my phone out and dialed her number, mentally reminding myself not to squeal when she picked up.
*****
The next day in History class, true to his word, Cane kicked John Edgecomb out of his seat next to me and plopped down, grinning. “Hey, Cypress. Think I could get that number?” Grinning like a fool, I’d grabbed his notebook off his desk and scribbled my number on the back cover. “There.” I handed it back to him.
“Everyone take your seats and let’s get started... who actually read chapter thirteen?” Mr. Eskilson bellowed to us all. I flicked my eyes over to Cane to find him watching me. I could feel my skin turning pink as he smirked at me instead of looking away. By the end of class I was a nervous wreck over the secret attention he was lavishing on me.
“Boy, Cy, you really don't like it when I check you out, eh?” he’d chuckled as we headed into the hall.
“I…uh…I’m not used to it?” I mumbled awkwardly. He grabbed my hand and laced his fingers through mine. My head snapped down to look at our intertwined hands. The gesture felt too intimate yet just right all at once. “Get used to it, Cy, you’re worth looking at.” I whipped my head back up to his face and despite my blush, smiled at him.
“I’ve never had a boyfriend. I wasn't allowed to date until this year,” I explained. I’m not sure why I told him this. It was embarrassing. I knew he’d been with girls, a lot of them actually, and I didn’t want to seem...inexperienced, even though that’s exactly what I was. But something about his face, the way he’d held my hand and the way he looked at me made me want to tell him everything about myself. He bumped my shoulder playfully and smiled wide. “I know.”
“You do?” My voice squeaked with embarrassment.
“Yeah, Cypress, I think everyone knows. Aster has a big mouth and there’s probably not a guy in our class that hasn't wanted to ask you out over the last three years.” His words shocked me. I knew I was pretty but I was also a nerd. I worked hard on my studies and read a lot. I’d only been to a handful of parties and even then Aster had to drag me to them. He was right though, my cousin Aster was boisterous and a loud mouth, but she'd been the closest thing I’d had to a sibling and I loved her to death. She was always telling me she wished she looked more like me and I would think she was on crack because she was stunning. Boys fell all over her and she fell all over them right back. I lived vicariously through her since my parents were so strict.
“Well I don’t know about that, but Aster does have a big mouth,” I giggled. We arrived at the door to my next class and Cane released my hand. I missed the connection as soon as he let go. I liked the way his large rough hand molded to my soft small one. He smiled at me and his eyes seemed to light up. “I’ll call you later, Cy,” he said as he turned to leave.
“Okay,” I’d mumbled softly.
“HOLY shit,” Aster barked, “was that what I think it was?!”
“What do you think it was?” I’d laughed and tossed my bag on the floor next to my desk.
“Cane fucking Ash holding your hand and walking you to class!” she’d squealed.
“Yeah, I guess it was what you thought,” I’d said, grinning.
After an uncomfortable night sleeping on the floor of my trailer I woke up smiling with tears streaming down my face. The dream was so vivid. So real. I felt everything. I pressed my palms painfully into my eyes and shook my head a dozen times before squeezing my eyes shut to rid myself of the feelings left by my subconscious. He was just right here. I could feel him still. I forced myself up and stumbled through my new home. Eventually I made my way to the local Social Security Office to officially change my name. I figure if Ezra is looking for me I have two things going for me: he thinks I’m clueless, and he’d never look for Magnolia Ash. And Magnolia Ash now exists.