“Really advanced that you set up email, though.” she began again. “I still don’t know how to do that. Okay, let’s get--”
Another head popped into the cube, cutting her off.
“Hey girls. I’m here for the computer set-up.” He must have been in his early twenties. If he had hit twenty. Average looking, sandy, short-cropped hair, brown eyes, and a nice set of shoulders. He didn’t look like he worked out, but he had the natural build that most gym men would kill for.
“Hey John Paul. This is Jessica.”
He smiled. “Hi Jess.”
“Hi John Paul.”
He moved as if to come in, but Candace stopped him. “She set up her email and signed on already. She even put on a background pic! She went to college.”
As if basic computer skills were a mark of a truly gifted mind. Jane must truly love her life.
“Wow. That is really excellent Jessica!" John Paul nodded in approval. "You can probably handle a lot of the simpler things as well. That will really help me out. Though you’ll have to call every once in a while so I feel needed.”
Smitten by young, heart-felt male.
He popped out and Candace filled the void. “He’s really very nice. Cute, too!” She giggled. I had a feeling I’d need to get used to giggling. “Off the market, though.”
“Oh? Is he g*y, then?”
“Gay? Oh my Lord, no! He just got married! Too bad.”
“Really? He seems a little young.”
“He’s nineteen, I think.”
“Married?! At nineteen?”
Candace flashed me a quizzical look. “Ye-ah, why?”
“How does someone get married at nineteen?”
Juniper chimed in with, “Easy as fallin’ off a log—if you’re not a hussy!”
Candace and I both looked at her cube, but she hiding behind her plant. All we could see was a mound of blond, teased hair above leaves. Listening to our every word, but hiding.
Candace continued, stepping into the cube and lowering her voice so it was harder to overhear. “Yeah, people here get married pretty early sometimes. High-school sweethearts and all the rest. Not everyone, but there are definitely those that do. He is big into Jesus and going by the bible and all that. I think he waited, for you know…,” she raised her eyebrows to indicate just what he was waiting for, “until he was married, and now his wife is pregnant.”
My world was blown. All that at nineteen? Waited until marriage? Did that happen anymore? What if the other party was awful in bed? Did they only stick to missionary? I would have to talk this over with Gladis.
Funny that the first person I thought to talk to about this was an old woman.
Candace and I got to business after that. The work seemed pretty easy. Spreadsheet for this, calculator and report for that. I learned fast, worked faster, and knew computers. Without any effort I was already ahead of the curve. It was a new field for me, but if it continued to start this slow, I would have no trouble getting up to speed.
The rest of the week basically went as the first day did, only increasingly lonelier. I tried to make up for that by emailing my friends as often as possible—Ami included. She nearly shat herself with glee at receiving my first email—I could tell by the amount of exclamation points—and I learned that while my life was going 800 miles a minute, theirs was the same old slow.
Saturday morning. Throughout the week, I’d met Candace’s work friends, most of which I was okay parting with, but when it was suggested we all go to a rodeo—well, who's gonna say no, eh? It would be my first. And after some of the guys heard that, I no longer had a choice.
I was up and ready well before my ride came to pick me up. I was going with Candace, John Paul, and Dave. At least with Dave driving, he couldn’t stare at my boobs.
The day was hot and stuffy. I was wearing a cute little halter that went to my belly button, and a little white skirt. Not too little--it had to cover the ugly part in back of my legs, and I had to be able to bend over without showing my crotch—but little enough to get the point across.
I heard the honk and saw Candace’s text that they were here. Yay!
When I stepped through the gate, Dave’s beater was parked where my beater had been for half a day—Gladis asked that I park in the warehouse, which she called a garage. Being that the other vehicles in the spacious garage each cost over a hundred-grand each—some well over that price tag and collector's items—I had a feeling it wasn’t for my benefit that my old Honda was stored away.
Three stunned faces greeted me as I strolled down the walk.
“What is she, a movie star? Is she from Hollywood?” Dave asked as I neared the open-windowed car. They must’ve not had air-conditioning, either, being that it was hot enough to fry eggs, and the window was open. Obviously they were in my pay grade.
“Hey Jess,” John Paul said from the front seat, “which movie did you say you starred in?”
“How much time you got? There was a time when you couldn’t throw a stone without hitting a Hollywood Star that I acted with!”
“No kidding! Really?!” Candace shrieked with giant eyes. She leaned across the backseat and peeped through the window.
“No, not really. Yes, I'm kidding. I am renting the cottage out back. And by cottage, what I really mean is pool house. I am renting the really nice pool house, which is a giant for what it is, out back.”
“Man, girl. Just give me a second now. I was thinkin’ you was rich and famous for two seconds. Phew.” Dave shook his head, wiped his pimply face, and looked out the window at me.
“Man girl? Confused on my sexual orientation?” I shook my head. I should have been quicker to climb in, because once he caught sight of my outfit he had a good gawk; mouth wide open, eyes up and down, pausing on my br**sts and crotch. Lovely.
John Paul was looking at me, too, with a veil across his eyes that I couldn’t read. He quickly looked away as I started moving to the back of the car. I could have sworn he crossed himself. I re-checked my outfit, suddenly apprehensive.
“Wow, Jess...ica," Candace gushed as I climbed in, "you look really great! Your outfit is totally cute! I wish I could wear something like that!” Her eyes paused on my necklace, and then swept to my bracelet.
I felt a smile bud. She was almost my speed, genuine, and sweet. Keeper. I felt worlds better about my choice in clothes as it pertained to non-religious types.
“Why couldn’t you wear something like this?” I asked her, strapping in.
“Yeah, right! I don’t have the body for that!” She smoothed her shirt over her D-cups.
“Shut up, Candace! You could totally rock this. Get some confidence and you are golden. I need to go shopping out here anyway—you should come.”
“Okay, that sounds fun. I know some great places. And the outlet mall isn’t too far from here.”
My eyes lit up at the mention of the outlet mall, but I let the matter drop to spare the boys in the car, who were currently silent, probably rolling their eyes.
About half hour later, we arrived at what looked like a small scale fair, and a large scale petting zoo, combined into one. As we went through the entrance, which cost $15, there was a small Ferris Wheel off to the right with a few other mechanical things for people not wearing white. To the left was a large building with a pig in an enclosure out front. Ahead of us stood the back of towering grand stands and a crowd of people mill-and-flocking around. I took that to mean we got here before the activities started.
We wound our way through beer and food vendors—it smelled delicious—and off to the right. Before we got to the kiddie rides, we veered back left, heading around an open area that must house the event.
That’s about when I noticed all the horses. They were everywhere! Tied to trailers, to fences, led around, ridden! It was like a real-life Western! And guess what came with horses? Horse poop. I started looking down as often as up.
We rounded a corner through the make-shift horse village and I got my first glimpse at what the stands were looking at. Nothing. Caged nothingness. A big, open, oval, dirt area. That’s it.
The expanse of circular dirt was enclosed by a white, metal gate made out of piping. Or, at least, that’s what it looked like. At the back end stood a solid structure, interrupting the gate and housing an electronic sign, similar to a basketball score board. Along the metal gate ran various colorful banners for local businesses.
We walked on until we joined a crowd of onlookers. Weaseling between them, I got a chance to see what everyone was so interested in. Bulls. Lots and lots of bulls. Large, brooding animals with bent heads, flaring nostrils and giant testicals. Sometimes with evil, hard, and jagged horns adorning their blunt heads.
It was a sight to see.
The beast closest to me faced the crowd. Its shoulder to about my chest, the monster looked through his enclosure with a confident, hostile gaze, daring anyone to come within its territory.
I took a step back.
“Hey Jess, how you doin’?”
Phil stepped beside me--he'd come in the other car. About my age with a blond ponytail, I didn’t mind talking to Phil. He was a bit slow, due to large amounts of a green bud, but still a decent sort of guy.
“Oh hey, Phil. Pretty good. How are you?”
“Doin’ good. Doin’ real good. You excited for the rodeo? First one! I just can’t believe it.” He looked at me with a hazy smile. Definitely a stoner.
I laughed. “Yes, I am ready to lose my rodeo cherry.”
Phil’s eyes flashed and his face lit up in a hopeful expression.
John Paul chuckled, stepping beside us. “Easy boy,” he said, looking around me to meet Phil’s eyes. “With all her options, being the closest doesn’t give you precedence. Besides, you move so slow you could watch paint dry--gotta be quick for the Californian!”
John Paul aimed a playful punch at Phil, who surprised me by ducking and weaving, firing back a quick retaliation.
“Boys!” I yelled in equally good humor. “I might be the oldest one of you two, but I am no babysitter.” I pushed them both away.
“You ain’t older’n me,” Phil said, stepping back in close. Possibly a little too close.
John Paul raised his hand. “Guilty. You are ancient.”
“Oh, nice J.P.!”
John Paul looked mildly shocked with my choice of nickname, but not displeased, which was a green light to keep using it. It was a fleeting thought. We were in the middle of the burly animals now, all uncommonly still.
I felt my mind hush, watching them as they were watching me.
Why were they so still? Were they plotting something? They had a bunch of people roaming around and staring at them. Their new territory was sometimes shared with another dude. I didn’t know bulls, but I did know dogs and men, and both would’ve been barking or fighting. Usually both.
The lack of movement made me nervous. Standing amongst these brutes was not smart. I could tell.
Lifting my gaze to take in the whole scene, I noticed, at the other opening to this mess of animal testosterone, stood a cowboy with an ass that would not quit! He stood with his arms folded, inspecting a group of five giant bulls. They, too, were still. In evil repose.
Groping that cowboy's ass with my eyes, I couldn't stop myself from a distraught sigh when he dropped his hands to his sides and turned in the opposite direction. Before he disappeared out of sight, he threw one final glance at those bulls, allowing me to get a peek at his face.
A shot of pure adrenaline pierced my gut and electrified my heart, spreading out to my limbs. My fingers tingled and toes went numb. I couldn't breathe. I nearly peed myself.
Apollo!
Like a dumb girl, my knees gave out and I missed my step. I kind of tilted and half fell into JP, who was not ready for my weight. He grabbed me as he stumbled toward the nearest bull pen, headed downward.
“Jess—“ JP struggled with my clutching hands, needing my weight removed to stand on his own. But I was wearing white; him disentangling at that moment meant I would hit the dirt. Unacceptable.
Phil to the rescue! His hands reached into my armpits, currently drenched with sweat, and, with effort, hoisted me upright. I teetered, clutching his shoulders, until I was sufficiently recovered. Then I gave Phil a smile and grateful nod. Not only was he a savior, but he refrained from wiping his hands on his jeans and making a yeuuck sound. Gentleman.
“Jessica, you alright?” Phil asked worriedly.
“What the....what is goin’ on Jessica? I am a married man!” JP said, half humorously, but half irritated.
I didn't have time to apologize. My head swiveled back to where that cowboy had disappeared. I needed to get there. To that place. I needed to follow that ass beyond the trailer, with my tongue hanging down my face if need be.
"Jessica?" Candace asked worriedly.
I spared her a glance. Then realized I was the subject of scrutiny.
One last check to make sure he was really gone, and not just hiding like a Jack-in-the-Box, I turned to my group with an apologetic smile. “S-sorry everyone. Sorry JP. Thanks Phil. I am stupidly clumsy. Sorry about that. I thought I saw someone I knew and stopped paying attention to what I was doing.”
“Jesus, Jessica. I thought they were going to toss you into the bull pen or something.” Candace sighed in relief.
“Candace. Lord’s name...!” JP said with too much hostility.
“Shut up JP,” she answered, using his new nickname.
“Who did you think you knew? I thought you were new here?” Phil asked as he looked around.
“This guy I half-met at the store the other night. I forgot my money and he paid for my groceries. I never really got to say thank you. He was over there by those big bulls.”