Crave (3 page)

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Authors: Jordan Sweet

BOOK: Crave
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CHAPTER 4

 

The light is brighter than all the others around and as it rolls past, the train slows.

“Come on,” he says, running after it.

Here we go again.

I make a much easier time of it this time around and I’m in the empty stock car
before
he even is.

“Oh, so now you need me to pull you up?” I yell.

Those words are surely lost in the noise of the blowing whistle.  Or he just ignored them as he jumped and pulled himself up, like something you’d see in a Hollywood chase scene.

Somehow, his white hat hadn’t moved.  And it’s almost as if he looks better now than when I first saw him tonight on stage.  Like when I jumped on the train, he stepped aside for makeup.  And then reentered.  Missing nothing.

The cars roll down the tracks now and he motions me to sit next to him in the open door.

“Great seats.  Enjoy this,” he says, “You’ve got the best view in America tonight.”

We roll out of view of the city and higher into the towering coastal ridges.  The train feels like it is rounding a corner for some time and then I can see the lights on the water.  Bobbing up and down. 

The ocean is spread out before us and as I look out ahead of the train, the head light of the first car tells me it’s open for quite a distance.

There are many ships out there tonight and it is really something.  It is all so peaceful now.  The bumps and sounds of the train have evened and I don’t even hardly notice them anymore.

Everett has been quiet and so have I.  It’s a sight out in front of us.  One of those sights where you don’t need words.  Nothing needs to be said.

After a while he moves to the back of the car.  I follow and sit by him. 

I look over and to my surprise, I see something in his hand. 

“Oh, here we go again,” I say laughing,

He laughs too.  And I can do nothing but smile at his cleverness.

“At least I’m not starving to death this time,” I say.

“Well, even if you were, you’d be glad to know that I brought two this time.  Here you go.”

“Am I gonna be in your debt for this?” I ask.

“None more than you already are!” he replies.

This car doesn’t smell as bad as the other one for some reason.  Maybe I’ve forgotten because of the view.  Or maybe it’s just that I know him better now.  And the small things don’t matter as much when you are not gasping for air and wondering who this stranger beside you is.

As I look out, the horizon seems to be getting lower.  I realize that this train is going uphill.  I wonder for a second where it is going, but realize then that it doesn’t really matter.  I’m happy.  For the first time in a long time, I feel happy.

“Do you trust me?” Everett says suddenly.

“What do you mean, do I trust you?” I respond.

“Do you trust me? Yes or no?” he says with more urgency.

He gets to his feet and he looks out.  I don’t know what he is doing, but his movement makes me jump to my feet too.  Like there is some danger and I need to move.

“That’s a ridiculous, unfair question Everett.  I just met you a few days ago.  How could I possibly trust you already?”

“Come on,” he says powerfully.

The train sounds different now.  Like when you’re on a roller coaster and you hear that clanging noise when it is going up.  Then you get to the top and it begins to go over the edge. There’s no more noise.  Just free fall.  And the noises of the passengers.

But, he and I aren’t screaming.  And the lack of what I heard moments ago on the rails tells me we are on a different type of surface.  A smoother surface.  I look out of the car door and I see now.  I see why the noise is different.  Smooth.  We are going over a bridge.

“Grab my hand,” he says with urgency.

“What?” I yell, looking out the door and down at the drop.  It must be two hundred feet down to the ocean below.

The waves crash mightily.

“This is crazy.  What are you doing, Everett?” I exclaim.

“Come on. Grab it again,” he yells.

Grabbing his hand is the last thing I ever want to do right now. 

But something.  From somewhere inside of me.  Somewhere I didn’t even know existed.  Takes my hand and puts it in his.

He pulls.  And I follow fast.

He’s going to jump.  “HOLY SHIT!” I yell.

We’re beyond the edge of the door now.

I’ve closed my eyes.  My heart pounds harder and faster than it ever has.  It feels like it will jump out too.

I have visions of my dad.  The last time I saw him.  Needle stuck in his arm, eyes rolling to the back of his head.  I waited for the paramedics.  The police were the ones who dragged him out.  It wasn’t my fault.  It was the only thing I knew to do.  He can’t blame me.  He can’t.

Visions of my mom.  Somewhere.  I don’t know where. 

These things fly through my head.  I can’t stop them. 

And Everett.  All that I know of him.  All that I think we could become.

I open my eyes and see we are a long way up.  I clutch his hand tighter now.  Both of my hands wrapped around his one.  Weightless. 

The splash is hard, and cold.  Strangely, it feels good.

Underwater now.  No sound.

I’ve lost his hand. 

Miraculously, I feel him grab hold again.  He pulls me up and I surface in his arms.  We fix eyes on each other and the moon only spotlights everything that is gorgeous about him.

His lips quiver as they come close. 

But, I’m still gasping for air. 

I get a lung full, and the rush puts me back to reality.

I push him away and yell over the splashing waves, “You crazy son of a bitch.  Are you fucking nuts?”

He is breathing heavy now too, bobbing around in the waves.

I try to figure out which way to get back on land.  I don’t see anything in any direction. 

I feel him grab me again.  And I go.  Only because…

Only because… I trust him? 

I want to swim the other way.  I would swim the other way… if I only knew where I was.

He exits the water before me.  I hold an exposed rock and contemplate just staying put. 

Instead, I decide to climb up to where he is calmly wringing out the shirt he just took off.

I see his abs for the first time.  They send shockwaves through my entire body. 

But that can’t stop me now.  I throw back my hair, moving fast towards him. 

He just stands there. 

“I didn’t force you,” he says, confident as ever.

That stops me in my tracks.  I want to tell him he’s an asshole and that he made me jump out of that rail car, but I can’t.  I realize suddenly that there is nothing I can say that will put the blame on him. 

I did it.  I decided to jump.

Why the hell did I do that?  Why would I have done that?  It just doesn’t make any sense.

Until, that is, I realize I wanted to do it.  Deep down, I needed to do it.

I regain my composure.

“Well, yeah ya did,” I say weakly, trying my best to save face.

“No, I didn’t,” he says, wiping his hands calmly.

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Oh, then just shut the hell up already,” I say.

He doubles over laughing now and I move over close to him.  Close enough that I get my hands on his back and push him back into the water.

He goes under for a second.  Comes back up and then acts like he was just out for a casual swim.  “I just had this thing dried out too.”

I look around and see a path that looks like it goes back up the rocks.  Hoping to get back on a train, or something to take me out of here.  His hat lies in front of me.  Like he placed it there gently before the jump.

He follows me.  I brush it off and hand it back to him.

About halfway up, in sight of another train coming over the rails, I look back to him and say, “That’s the most exhilarating thing I’ve ever done.”

CHAPTER 5

 

The bar is packed again Saturday night.  The Greenhorns drummer comes to the bar and he’s taken an interest in talking to me. 

“So, you’re the one who rode in on that train with Everett? What’s it like hopping trains across the country?  I’ve never done anything like that before.  Was it cool?  Was Everett there the whole time?  How many cows were there on that train?”

He keeps on talking and I don’t think I’ll get a chance to answer any of the questions he’s asked. I think he’s more interested in hearing his own voice than the answers.

Finally, a break and I say, “Just got into Pacific Heights a week ago. Still trying to figure out if I should stick around or not.”

“Why wouldn’t you stick around?  We got everything here.  The Pacific Ocean, the city, and the ridges- it’s gorgeous out here.”

“Well I don’t know. Just haven’t made up my mind yet,” I say.

“Well where are you from?  Seems like with everything here, you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.  Got a boyfriend or a family or something like that keeping your mind off enjoying yourself here?”

“Nope, none of that. Just don’t know if this is the right place for me yet.  I only know two people here. Josie, who’s sweet and my best friend, and Everett, who I barely know.”

“The Cowboy? Yeah, he’s a real sweetheart too.  Problems are that he’s not so sure what he’s doing either.  He’s hasn’t yet settled.”

“Settled what?  What’s his deal?” I say, rather curiously.  This is the first opportunity I’ve had to hear from anyone else about Everett, and I think quick to come up with some questions that would yield good information.

“He’s probably gonna be here for a while, but I ‘spect he’ll head back to Wyoming in the next year.  He
is
the heir to the Wyoming cattle throne, after all.  No reason really to stick around here.”

“Heir to the what?” I say, more interested now.

“The Wyoming cattle throne.  That cowboy there,” he says, pointing to the stage where Everett is talking to the other Greenhorns, “That boy’s got a big future ahead of him on the ranch.  Dad’s one of the wealthiest men in Wyoming and perhaps this side of the Mississippi.  I been out there myself, spent a few summers there on his ranch.”

He has my interest now, and I realize something, I don’t even know what Everett’s last name is.  I ought to know who’s getting the ranch, I figure. “Hey, Crash, what… um… what did you say Everett’s last name was?”

“I hadn’t said it.  Want to take a guess?  I know you know it.  Everybody knows it.  I’d make ya a bet, but that’d be as fair as having a one-legged man fight in an ass-kicking contest.”

He chuckles at himself, and I wonder what ranch
this
guy stepped off of.  Never heard this kind of talk back home.  “Nope, don’t know it. So, what is it?”

“Well it’s Colson.  It is.  It’s Everett Colson- heir to the Wyoming cattle throne.  Love that guy.  He’s my boy.”

Colson… how do I know that name?  Colson, I go over it again in my head.  Where do I know that name from?

“Well I got to get up to the stage,” Crash says, “Nice talking to you, Cora.”

“Yeah,” I say, still caught up in thought.

I turn back around to the bartender and order a martini.  “Put it on the band’s tab,” I say.  “Crash told me that would be okay,” I lie. 

I look around as the crowd gathers.  They will probably be starting soon. 

My eyes turn to the stage and I see Everett looking out.  He has that look of determination again.  That look I saw before we jumped off that train last week.  That look I saw when he looked back at me as he got off that train a week before.

He looks in my direction and raises his hand just enough as if to say “Hey, I’m waving at you, Cora.”

I smile in his direction and I notice the map of the United States on his t-shirt.  It’s a funny looking graphic.  To my surprise, I discover it’s actually not a map at all, but a giant cow.  And the states, they are just outlined on it.  Underneath, two words in black.

That’s it.  The train.  That’s where I saw it.  The sign on the train.  I raise my hand halfway, like I am about say, “What is Colson’s Cattle?” as if I’m a contestant on Jeopardy.  Holy
Cow
!  His family must have some money.

The intrigue of this cowboy just went off the chart.  Gorgeous.  Country Music Video Rock Star.  Wealthy rancher.  He’s got it all.

And then there’s me.  I turn back to my drink.

Crash comes back over for another drink.

“Hey Crash, come here for a minute,” I say motioning him to sit next to me again.

“Tell me why I should stay here again.”

“Well, like I say, this is a great place to be.  You know what they say about Pacific Heights, or maybe you’ve read about it.  It’s the last best place in America to start over.  That’s it.  That’s why I’m here.  That’s why seventy-five percent of the people in this bar are here.”

“Last best place, huh?  Well I just don’t know if it’s for me.  I’ve got troubles,” I admit.

“Yep, that she is, and
you
don’t have troubles” he says. “Look around the city for a day or two.  Survey the folks here for a while, and then tell me again if you still think you have troubles.  I think you’ll find yourself amongst the most normal here.  I can tell that about you in the first five minutes to know you.  You’ve got a head start, in this starting over business.”

Walking back off to the stage again, he calls back, “Enjoy the show, Cora.”

After the show, it’s déjà vu all over again and talk of the after-party is in high gear. 

“Come with us this week,” Josie insists.  “Everett’s going this week.  We talked him into it.  You should come too.”

“I don’t know, Josie, you know that’s not really my scene,” I say.

“Oh come on,” she replies, “It’s really just the band, us, and a few other people.  Not a big deal.  Just a nice small little after-party.”

“Is Crash going too?” I ask, now that I have another friend here.

“Yeah, it’s actually at his place tonight.  He’s got a sweet place up off one of the ridges.”

“He’s got his own place?”

“Well, sort of.  It’s technically his parents, but they’re in Cabo for the whole week.  So, it’s
our
place now!  Come on, it’s going to be fun.”

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