My Name Is River Blue (46 page)

Carlee taunted
me. "Whatever I can do to make you feel better. If you're not too shy."

I grinned and
stood when I saw the little devil behind Carlee's eyes. I was surprised to hear
her daring me as if she didn't know me. In less than fifteen seconds, I lost my
clothes and stood naked in front of her. Carlee was not as prepared for the
reality as she had pretended to be.

"Hey,
Carlee, I believe I met your bet and raised you. Are you folding already?"

Carlee didn't
fold. She stood and tossed her clothes on top of mine before taking my hand and
walking with me into the water. I heard no other sound but the pounding of my
heart.

***

It was dawn when
Carlee and I wrapped a red blanket around us and sat just a few feet in front
of our tent. I held her to me, and she nestled her head between my shoulder and
chin. The whole world seemed perfectly quiet as we watched a deer drink from
the lake. For both of us, the moment was perfect just like our play in the lake,
the meal we fed each other by the fire, and our lovemaking in the tent. It had
all flowed naturally, without hesitation or question as if we had always known
the right time would come for us.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN

Big Bill was
upset when he discovered that Carlee had spent every day at the farm with me
while he was in Hawaii, but he felt worse when Carlee informed him of her
college plans. She told him that instead of going to Vandy, she was going to Bergeron
County Community College with me. After two years, we planned to transfer to
nearby Ackers State so that we could still commute from home to college for our
last two years. With her grades, she could get a scholarship to any school she
wanted. I had no financial problems preventing me from attending school with
her because of the money from my mother, the foster kid scholarship, and my part-time
jobs.

Carlee never
wanted to brag about money to me, but there was a good reason why she was
willing to risk her father withholding his financial support. Prior to her paternal
grandmother's death, the woman had set up funds for both Billy and Carlee that
they could access after their eighteenth birthdays. Carlee wanted to save it
for the future, but she had more money than she needed for living expenses until
long after she finished college. She didn't have to have her father's money.

Big Bill tried
his best to make Carlee change her plans on college and blamed me for
influencing her. When she told him that her decision to attend BCC with me was
final, he blew like one of the volcanoes he had visited in Hawaii and then gave
her the ultimatum that I had expected. He told her that she would go to Vandy
and that she would break up with me, or she could leave their house and forget
she had a family. Carlee's mother tried to reason with him until he grew tired
of her and slapped her face. When Carlee announced that she was leaving and
suggested that her mother do the same, Big Bill cursed them both and stormed away
from them.

With her father
fuming in his home office, Carlee called Papa and asked if his offer for her to
live with us was still good. He told her she was welcome to stay as long as she
needed, and if she wanted to stay through college, he would work out a deal
with her. Papa was still without a cook and housekeeper because he was so fussy
about who he had in his house. Carlee was happy to accept the job in return for
room and board plus a small salary, which would keep her from using her trust
fund. The deal was even more attractive to her because I was living at the farm.
My first thought was how great it would be having Carlee live with us, and my
second thought was how angry it would make her father.

It was a good
thing that Carlee's parents gave her the Lexus for graduation after she turned
eighteen. Since she was the registered owner, Big Bill couldn't legally stop
her from packing the car full of her possessions before she left home. Trying
to maintain a relationship with her daughter, Mrs. Summers offered to bring the
rest of Carlee's things to the farm the following day when her husband was gone.

When Tyler and I
helped Carlee unload her car, we laughed all the way to her bedroom upstairs in
Papa's house. We guessed that she must have been pissed when she packed the car
because she threw her clothes everywhere. It was amusing to watch Tyler's red face
as he carried an armful of Carlee's loose panties and bras.

***

In late August,
about a week before classes began at BCC, Carlee wanted us to take a shopping
trip up to Cherokee Creek Outlet Mall, which was a group of discount name brand
clothing stores located off the same interstate that ran by Harper Springs. As
usual, Carlee drove. If I had to ride more than thirty minutes, someone else
drove because of my back. Sitting, especially in a car, put too much pressure
on my lower spine, and I couldn't increase my pain medicine without diminishing
my driving skills.

By ten o'clock
in the morning, Carlee and I were halfway to the mall. The rush hour had ended,
and the traffic on the four-lane interstate was light unless we were passing
exits. As usual, her father had called her twice already. Since a few days
after she moved out of his house, Big Bill had called her several times a day
every day, and she never answered him.

The sky was blue
and cloudless with brilliant sunshine, and the temperature was much cooler than
normal for August in the South. I was experiencing less pain than usual, and
the best thing was that Carlee and I were together. At the time, our
relationship was much like the weather in that we were all blue sky and
sunshine. It was the first and only time that I have ever been in love.

I needed a few
more items of clothing for school and work, but I could have found what I
needed at reasonable prices in Harper Springs. The day before our shopping
trip, when Carlee said that I needed some new clothes, and that I should go
with her to the outlet mall, I made the mistake of suggesting that we go to one
of the local discount stores where I normally found good bargains I could
afford. From her facial expression, I gathered that my suggestion was
disgusting. She took a few seconds to recover before she spoke. Ever since our
fight when she showed her snobbery over my room in Tolley House and Ant's
smelly workout clothes, she chose her words carefully.

"River, if
you go with me to the outlet mall, you can find brand name clothes that are of
much better quality than what you get at one of the discount stores in Harper
Springs. You may pay a little more, but the clothes will look much better and
last longer. In another week, you're going to be working at the high school and
starting college. You really need to start dressing a little better, because
fair or not, people who can affect your life will be influenced by the way you
present yourself. Cheap tee shirts and jeans won't be appropriate for every
situation."

"I
understand, but I don't see paying extra money just so snobs will know that I
didn't shop at the cheapest place."

"The outlet
mall is not like a fine clothing shop or even an upscale department store. If I
wanted to look snobbish, I certainly wouldn't shop the stores there. People go
to the outlet mall for bargains, the same reason you go to the discount stores.
The difference is that the bargains I get are on better quality clothes."

"Okay,"
I said. It wasn't worth arguing. If I found the clothes at the outlet mall were
too expensive for my tastes, I wouldn't buy much. I could always say that I
didn't find anything that I liked.

"River, I
can tell when you're pacifying me, and I want you to keep an open mind. You're the
first person that the school board has agreed to employ while you complete the
normal requirements for your position, and there will be some critical people
on the staff. To them, it's not fair. They will say that you don't meet the
qualifications, and you're too young. Unfortunately, some are bigots who would
discriminate against you anyway. You can't afford to dress like a student if
you want anyone at the high school to take you seriously. Don't you think it
will be hard enough for you without the added pressure that comes from critical
co-workers who might influence your boss's view of you?"

Carlee had a
good point. I had been worrying about the other teachers and coaches taking me
seriously, but I hadn't thought of taking any steps to show them that I was
serious about the job. With working part-time at the school, helping Papa, and
taking my own classes, Carlee was right. I had enough to stress me. I was
already very worried that I wouldn't be able to handle the pain of a busy day.

"Yeah, I
get it," I said. "I'm there, okay." I gave her a kiss and
thanked her for thinking about me. Carlee liked little kisses, and she enjoyed
my appreciation when she taught me something that good parents would teach their
child. There were many times when Carlee showed me a different way of looking
at something, and I knew that she wasn't ridiculing me, but only trying to help
me.

When Carlee and
I approached the city, the interstate became six lanes of slower traffic
because of cars that had to reduce speed to take one of the exits. About two
miles before we were to turn off onto the road leading to the outlet mall, a
tractor-trailer passed us on Carlee's side and then cut sharply into the lane
in front of us. If Carlee had not been alert enough to brake quickly, we would
have had an accident. It was a stupid thing for the other driver to do and
accomplished nothing with the slower traffic still in front of him. Since the
accident that killed Ant and changed my life, reckless drivers angered me, and
at that moment, I wanted to drag the trucker out of his cab and kick his butt.

"What an
asshole!" I said to Carlee. "Doesn't he have any clue what he could
cause?"

"It gets
worse. I think my father owns the trucking company."

"Carlee, get
in the left lane and pull up close enough that I can roll the window down and
talk to him."

"No, River.
I know you're upset but that won't help. I have a pen in the glove compartment.
Write his tag number on something, and I'll turn him in to his boss."

"I got a
better idea."

I used my cell
to report the trucker to the highway patrol. After I stated my reason for
calling, I gave them our names, a description of Carlee's car, and our
approximate location on the interstate. I then gave them a description of the
truck, its license plate number, and the name of the trucking company. Carlee
verified that it was one of her father's trucks and belonged to "Lucky
Trucking."

The man at the
highway patrol said that they had unmarked cars in the area, and that one of
them would observe the trucker's driving for any possible violations and at a
minimum, they would pull him over to warn him. In addition, they would report
the incident to the trucking company. I knew that the patrol would not fine him
just on my word, but I was satisfied that the driver and his boss would know
that someone cared enough to complain.

"Do you
feel better now?" Carlee asked when my call ended.

"Lots."
I
did
feel better. I hoped that when the highway patrol spoke to the truck
driver that it would result in a more careful driver, but I knew that in time he
would probably go back to driving recklessly. It still helped me to know that I
tried.

I told Carlee
that she needed to move to the right lane to take the next exit to the mall, and
when she did, she pulled ahead of the truck driver to where I could see the
name of the trucking company on the passenger door. There was something
familiar to me about the green letters on white with a green shamrock under the
name.

"I think
I've seen one of those trucks around Harper Springs," I said. "The
signing on the cab looks so familiar."

"I doubt
you saw one near Harper Springs because it's still a small company. They work a
limited area, and they don't even do overnights yet, but my father plans to
expand it. He bought it from Max's dad, who has a knack for thinking small. You
probably saw one of the trucks when you went up this way to one of our football
games."

"Yeah,
you're probably right. You know I have trouble with my memory sometimes." Besides
the trauma I suffered from the accident, there were brief times throughout each
day when the effect of my medications caused me to feel as if I were waking
from a drunken stupor.

"Here we
are," announced Carlee when she pulled into the mall parking lot. "Let's
see what kind of clothes we can find to make you look like a responsible adult."

I laughed. "You
just love to shop for any reason."

Carlee giggled
as she found a parking space. She could not hide her wide-eyed excitement, and
she reminded me of a little girl opening presents at her surprise birthday
party.

My idea of
clothes shopping was simple. I knew what items I needed before I went to the
store, so when I walked in the door, I went straight to that section, selected
the items I wanted, and paid for them. I knew my clothes sizes, so I rarely
ever tried on anything before I bought it, but I did save receipts. For me, a shopping
event was less than thirty minutes from the time I walked in the front door
until I was out the door on the way to my car.

Carlee did her
shopping differently. Whereas I was proud of my shopping efficiency, Carlee
spent twice as long as I did in stores where she bought nothing but touched
almost everything. She took even longer in the stores where she actually made a
purchase.

I almost lost my
mind.

Later on, I discovered
that my tongue was bleeding from biting it. I begged Carlee to tell me what I
did wrong to make her punish me that way. She laughed as if I was joking, but I
felt similar to the way I did when Papa used to punish me. He would make me run
the hill behind his barn until my legs turned to rubber, and I promised to be
good forever. If he had taken me shopping the same way Carlee did, I would have
never broken another rule.

The night of our
shopping trip, we were both tired and went to bed early. We had our own rooms, but
Carlee and I usually slept together, and that night, she shared my bed in my
room over the barn.

They had become
less frequent, but I still suffered from nightmares about the accident. They usually
started with Ant and I riding along the highway, just as we did the night that
the truck driver ran us off the road. Sometimes, I saw the face of the man
driving the tractor, and it was CO Malley from Stockwell, who grinned with
rotten teeth and said, "It's time for payback." My nightmares usually
ended when the truck hit our car, and we began to slide towards the guardrail.
Another ending was strong, scarred hands dragging me out of the wrecked car and
through a tunnel of screaming people.