Chapter 11
Cadence
Barrick dismissed me, so I huff and leave to go find Gran. She is sitting on the back porch and she smiles and hands me a bucket as I reach her. I take it in my hands and quietly follow her out into the garden of the unknown. I mean what’s next? So far this week I’ve played in shit, got scared by a snake, touched a cow’s boob, and had to spend all day with Barrick at a farmers’ market.
“Cadence, why don’t you start right there with green beans.” She walks to the other aisle and begins to pick one. “If they are about this size,” she says, holding one up for me to see, “pick them, if not, leave them alone. They should be good in another few days.”
“Okay.” I take my time picking them to try and reduce the amount of sweat that is seeping out of my skin. The sun is not high in the sky, but this stickiness is killing me. “Gran, why’s it so sticky here? I mean, I walk outside and start to sweat.”
“It’s called humidity, and it’s not going away anytime soon.”
We remain quiet, and I finish with my row and start another. When my bucket is full, I ask Gran what I should do next. She tells me to take it to the back porch and grab another one. I do, and when I return Gran asks me to start on the cucumbers. I feel semi-confident that this isn’t rocket science so I decide to start without instruction. I walk down the row and when I find one, I pull it. “Oh shit!” I yell as I shake my right hand as if it’s on fire. Gran pauses and looks at me.
She begins to laugh, and I’m starting to get annoyed with everyone laughing at me. “Cadence, cucumbers have prickles on them. You’ve got to be careful.”
“You think?” I smart back as I drop my bucket and start toward the house. I’m done.
“Come back here young lady,” she hollers. As much as I want to go in the air-conditioned house I know I can’t disrespect her right now. I know that’s my key to getting off this farm. Taking a deep breath, I stop, face her, and carefully inspect each cucumber before I pick it. When Gran has punished me long enough she tells me that she’s almost finished so I can go inside. I hurry inside, scrub my hands, and make myself a sandwich.
After lunch I hide out in my room with my music on loud and focus on my flexibility. I’ve got to do something. I can already feel the resistance in my muscles from lack of daily practice. What’s going to happen in another month? Realizing I have no room in here, I decide to brave the humidity and heat while I try to find myself in the music.
Barrick
Ms. Mae comes to visit me as I’m finishing up for the day. She informs me that she is lightening up on Cadence. She will still report to me every morning and help, but her duties will be done before lunch. I kind of hate it. It’s been fun watching her squirm and get out of her comfort zone. Not to mention, she’s a lot prettier to look at than the cows.
After cleaning the equipment, I make sure that all of the tubs of water are full for all of the animals. The heat is brutal this time of year. As I am placing the water hose back on the rack, I hear the craziest music coming from the house. I close the gate and peer out the door. I’m completely caught off guard when I see Cadence moving to that awful music. She has on shorts that barely cover her ass and a sports bra. Her sunshine blond hair is pulled up perfectly, and as I watch her movements, her body is doing things I’ve never seen anyone do in my life. The music changes from raw to classical. As I continue to watch I’m blown away at her flexibility. Dang, if she can stretch like that then I wonder… that thought is quickly eliminated when I realize I shouldn’t be having those thoughts about Cadence.
I quickly walk toward my truck trying to get her image out of my mind. As I flip the ignition, I jump out of my seat as heavy metal music blares through my speakers at the highest volume. I spin the knob down and hit preset number one for my favorite station. Pausing, to settle myself I realize that Cadence just got me back for the compost pile. Well, bring it on city girl.
Cadence
As the music plays, I stretch, listen to the beat, and fall in rhythm. I try to focus on the routine, but something’s not right. I move with more emotion, but when I glance over my shoulder, I realize what’s missing… Lauren. This piece was picked to show off both of our assets. She always had such grace when moving while I could build a fire beneath my feet. The anger and chaos always fueled my creativity. It’s like she was the light while I was the darkness, and together we made a complete day. Feeling defeated, I turn off the music and pause. I will not let living in this hell hole stop me from dancing. If I can’t go home, there has to be a way for me to find myself without her, but I refuse to go to some hillbilly studio. I am alone with no partner, friends, or even a dad for that matter. For now, I’ll just dance on the farm until I can find out when the recruiters will be in the big city. I push the anger down deep inside and dance for me. I hit shuffle on my playlist and focus on my poise and movements with each song. When “Talk Dirty To Me” begins to play I laugh and move to the music.
“What in tarnation is that shit?” I hear Gran yell as the screen door slams behind her.
“Jason Derulo, Gran,” I say as I mute the music.
“Girl, that was not music. I know exactly where we’re going Saturday night. The Loft. You need to hear some good country music.”
“Gran, I hate country music.”
“Well, that’s what’s wrong with ya. Everyone needs some Cash, Straight, or Luke Bryan in their life,” she says with a laugh. “But seriously sweetie, you were so graceful before that other Jason Julio came on.”
“You mean Derulo, Gran.”
Tossing her hands in the air she walks back into the house, “After watching that maybe I should take you to that studio.”
I laugh at the thought of joining a studio here. I mean, what could they possibly teach me that I don’t already know?
“Everything okay?” I’m startled by Mom’s voice.
“Yeah, just trying to think about what I want to do with this routine.”
“Okay. Well, Gran wanted to show you around town tonight. Didn’t know if you wanted to shower first,” she says.
I look at her like she’s lost her mind because I might be in Delight, North Carolina, but this city girl doesn’t go anywhere without looking like a million bucks.
“Hurry up,” she says as I make my way toward my room. I know exactly what I’m wearing. I go to my closet and choose my pale pink shorts and my sheer Elie Tahari sleeveless blouse. I take a shower, shave, style my hair, and apply my makeup with ease. Popping my lips one last time, I smile knowing that you can take the girl out of the city, but you cannot take the city out of the girl.
As my heels click on the steps, Gran and Mom look at me. Gran shakes her head, and looks at Mom. “Mama, she’s not going to change who she is because we moved south.”
“Well, a Gran can hope. That’s for sure,” she says with a laugh.
Walking outside we get into Gran’s beat-up truck and I sit on my hands in hopes of not getting my shorts dirty. She rolls down the windows and begins to drive us around the farm. I look at the dash for the air conditioner button, but there’s nothing there. You’ve got to be kidding, at least Barrick’s truck had everything you could imagine. I try to figure out how I’m going to refrain from sweating, but within a few minutes the first bubble skims my skin. She points out the animals, crops, and tells us a story about everything. Can she not be quiet for two seconds?
We spend the next hour driving around Delight and Lawndale. I’m thankful she’s reached sixty miles an hour. It’s not cold air, but at least it’s something. She points out who lives where, who owns what, the church, school, The Loft, and areas of town that are off limits. By the time we arrive back at her house, I’m sweating like crazy, my makeup is melted off, and my shorts are wet and have a streak of red dirt on them. You’ve got to be kidding!
As soon as we are back at the house, my brain is on overload, and my pores are
crying. I’m seriously going to have to figure out a way to keep up my appearance with this heat but right now, the only thing on my mind is another shower.