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I needed to get out of the house for a little bit, so I got into my Charger and went for a drive. I found myself at the entrance to the park with the winding road that led to the Mennonite farms. I punched it, the beast under the hood gave a roar, and I was slammed into my seat as the car rocketed down the road. There was nothing like the feel of power as the Charger did what it was designed to do: go extremely fast.
In what felt like only a moment I shot out of the park onto a country road. I smiled when I saw the Pearson farm coming up and slowed down. I decided to pull in and see what Roc and Zoe were up to. Zoe came out of the barn, and it looked like she’d been working.
One of my fantasies was the Farmer’s Daughter. It was right up there with the Naughty Catholic Schoolgirl. Seeing Zoe in her boots, tight jeans, t-shirt, and a John Deere baseball cap was a real turn-on. She had her hair pulled back in a ponytail to keep it out of her face, but all it did was show off her long neck. I looked into her brown eyes and could see myself getting lost in them. Of course, Zoe had no makeup on, and the flush in her cheeks came from honest work. I tried not to be too obvious as I checked her out.
“Hey, what brings you out here?” she asked.
“I just got back from Michigan State and needed some time to myself, so I decided to take a drive.”
“Do you want me to go get my brother?” Zoe asked.
“No, I came to see you.”
Sometimes my bullshit works. From the embarrassed look I got, it seemed I had said the right thing. Maybe Pam was right, maybe Zoe liked me.
“What were you doing?” I asked.
“I was taking care of the horses. Want to help me?” she asked.
“Sure, why not,” I said and followed her into the barn.
The sounds and smells gave me a momentary flashback to my summer with my uncle. I felt at home, suddenly. I volunteered to muck out the twelve stalls. Zoe showed me where to take the soiled straw. They had a couple of compost piles going, and it was obvious which one was the newest. Over time it would break down and be used as a natural fertilizer.
Mucking stalls wasn’t hard work and didn’t take any thought. I needed the mind-numbing repetitive time to get my head straight. This was almost as good as running. When I finished with that task, she had me fill the feed stations in each stall. I then checked to make sure they all had water. While I’d been doing that, she would take a horse to the wash station and get him clean. They looked like they had been into the pond and gotten muddy.
After I finished with the feed and watering, I went to help her.
“What can I do?” I asked because I wasn’t sure what needed to be done.
“Get the sweat scraper and get the water off of him,” Zoe said.
The sweat scraper looked like a bent window squeegee. She showed me how to use it to get off the excess water. While the horse was being washed, she had him in a synthetic halter so she wouldn’t get his leather one wet. Zoe showed me how to switch the halters, and then she had me lead him to his stall where his dinner was waiting. We then got the next horse.
By the time we had done the last three, I was confident in my ability to wash a horse. I then cleaned up the wash station while Zoe checked on her charges. Zoe and I made a good team. She was good with the horses, and while we worked, her focus was on them.
“I need to check the fence by the pond. Somehow they got into it today,” she said.
“Fences I know. I helped my uncle redo all his fences on his cattle farm.”
We walked the pasture fence lines and soon found how they had gotten into the one with the pond. We went back to the barn and got the tools I needed, and Zoe held the pieces in place as I fixed them.
“Can I ask you how being a Mennonite is different from being a Christian?” I asked.
“Mennonites believe in the teachings of Jesus Christ. Our beliefs stem from the Anabaptists. Anabaptists are Christians who believe in delaying baptism until the candidate confesses his or her faith. It doesn’t mean anti-BaptistBaptist, but rather rebaptizers. When our religion was founded, the authorities started to arrest the rebaptizers. We believe that Jesus taught peace, so we didn’t resist.
“From the first group of thirteen Anabaptists, other religions were founded. The most recognizable are the Amish. Unlike them, we’re allowed to wear normal clothes and drive cars. But we believe in service to our community and nonviolence. That’s the quick version of what it means to be Mennonite,” Zoe said.
I glanced around and took a deep breath. It was so peaceful on the farm. Zoe cocked her head and looked at me.
“I can tell something’s bothering you. Would you like to talk about it?” she asked.
“No, not really,” I said.
“Would you allow me to pray with you?” she asked, which caught me off guard.
While I had never been one to hide my faith, I’d never really put it out there, either. I just nodded, and she took my hands and bowed her head. I joined her and prayed that the rift that had developed in my family would be healed. When we were done, Zoe held my hand as she walked me back to the barn. I admit I took my time to get back and just enjoyed her company.
We put the tools away and rechecked the horses, and then she walked me to my car.
“You’re welcome to come help me do my chores anytime,” Zoe said.
“I’d like that,” I said, completely serious.
The farm had a real attraction for me. As I looked closer at Zoe, I felt an allure there also. It was different from what I usually felt with a girl. While there was a sexual attraction, there seemed to be something more. I couldn’t really put my finger on it. Zoe squeezed my hand, and then let it go so I could leave. I wanted to kiss her, but something stopped me. I didn’t want to rush whatever it was I felt. All I know is that spending a couple of hours with her on the farm had drained all the stress out of me. I felt better than I had in a long time. Maybe even before Jeff’s accident.
◊◊◊ Monday September 14
When I pulled into school, Tracy and Pam were out front hanging out with Brook. For some reason, Brook made me nervous. Maybe it was the predatory way she checked me out. While walking up, I saw Tracy pout.
“What’s wrong with her?” I asked Pam.
“You forgot her birthday,” Brook supplied.
I felt like shit. I’d never missed Tracy’s birthday since starting high school. Her birthday my freshman year had actually been our first unofficial date.
“What can I do to make it up to you?” I asked.
“You could buy me a Mustang,” Tracy suggested.
For her sixteenth birthday, her parents had bought her a Mustang. Tracy had sold it to pay for the accident she’d had that destroyed the ice cream stand.
“I think I saw a black one at Toys “Я” Us,” I said.
That made Pam laugh. Tracy tried to give me her sad eyes, but I wasn’t buying it, neither figuratively nor literally. Her dad made more than enough to buy her a car if he wanted to. I wasn’t suddenly going to start spending money on my friends. It wasn’t like there was a ton of money in my bank account right now anyways. I’d put a big chunk of it into the farm and would get another big payout of my movie money on the release. Then there was all the residual money from ad campaigns and the photo-rights royalties. Dad had arranged that money to go into ‘David’s college fund’ and the ‘buy a big-assed house’ fund. They had that money locked down where I would never see it until I either used it for its intended purpose or turned 25. How they talked me into that, I’ll never know.
“Why don’t you take her out?” Brook suggested.
“I’d like that,” Tracy said.
“Do you want to plan it or should I?” I asked.
“I’ll plan it,” Brook offered.
We all looked at her and Tracy shrugged.
“Okay,” I said as the bell rang.
I put my arm around Tracy, my hand found its way into her back pocket, and hers did the same in mine. It felt familiar and comfortable as I remembered how we used to be when we went out. Several people did a double take when they saw me walk her to her locker. Brook and Pam didn’t help when they acted like teenage girls and squealed when I kissed Tracy goodbye. I shook my head and hoped they weren’t getting any ideas.