So this is just a little something I started a couple days ago. Basically, it's going to be a collection of short stories that kind of string together to make one big story. This is part of the first tale, so if it seems as if there's little conflict, it's because this tale is not done yet. I'll hopefully post the rest of this first tale later. Please be very honest in your reviews, and I hope you enjoy it!
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Tale 1: The Weston Ranch is not for Boys
Brody
I should have known what I was getting into when I volunteered to help out at a ranch over the summer to raise money for college. After all, the owner warned me that the ranch was occupied by six females and two males. I’m sure I’ll be fine, I said, I have three sisters at home. Billy Weston just laughed. Despite his warning, I still took the job, and on the first of June I was on the bus headed for some Neverland in Texas.
When I got off at the only station in the town, a brown-haired woman who appeared to be at least in her sixties dressed in a red flannel shirt and jeans with trucker boots was waiting for me, arms crossed.
“You must be Brody,” she said.
“Um, yes, ma’am,” I answered.
She held her hand out to shake mine, but my hands were otherwise engaged, holding the three huge duffle bags my mom and sisters wouldn’t let me leave the house without. I stared at the woman for a long minute, waiting for her to get the hint. She didn’t. Instead she cleared her throat and wiggled her fingers.
“You gonna let me help you carry those bags or you wanna be a macho man?” Well, she was straightforward.
Reluctantly and carefully, so as not to break her arms though they looked anything but fragile, I handed her one of the bags. Without another word, she walked away. I had not choice but to follow her. We stopped in front of a blue Chevy pick-up truck. I thought to myself, You can’t get any more cowgirl clichéd than that. The woman threw my bag into the bed of the truck with no effort at all. I followed suit, only less gracefully. My face felt a little hot and I did not look up from my shoes.
“My name is Miss Danni,” the woman said. “I live at the Weston Ranch, and Old Billy sent me here to pick you up.”
I nodded, frowning at the ground.
“When we get there, don’t look too hard at the girls, alright?” Her tone suggested that it wasn’t a question. It was an order.
“Yes, ma’am.” I nodded again.
Miss Danni snorted and told me to get into the car. We drove for about fifteen minutes with a couple failed attempts at conversation from me. The farther we got from the town, the more worried I became. That was two warnings now. I should have jumped right out of that truck and ran right back to the bus station and gotten on the next one home. But for some reason I was intrigued now, and plus I was already in too deep. Or so I tried to convince myself.
At last, we came upon a drive with a worn wooden sign that read, “Weston Ranch.” It might’ve been “Eston Rah” because some of the letters had almost disappeared, but I’m pretty sure it said what I thought it said. We headed down that drive, and then we came upon a pretty large, brown house with a wraparound porch. I could see some people out somewhere in the field, but I remembered Miss Danni’s warning and looked away.
Billy Weston - a balding man who seems to only have two outfits: overalls with a red-and-white checkered shirt under and jeans with a white t-shirt – sat on the porch swing presumably waiting for us. He stood when I got out of the truck.
“Well now, you must be Brody!” he bellowed with a laugh, placing his hands on his hips.
“Um, y-yes, that’s me,” I replied.
As Billy made his way down the steps and to me, Miss Danni was getting my bags and tossing them into the dirt. I briefly wondered if she was doing that on purpose to annoy me, but decided that the whole ground was covered in dirt, so she really had no choice. Billy shook my hand.
“Well, you look like a fine young man,” he observed. “Strong, sturdy.” He clapped a large hand onto my shoulder. My knees buckled under the pressure. “Okay, forget the sturdy part. Anyhow, you’ll be able to help around here. We’ll find something for sure.” He grinned, a wide, genuine grin. “Well come on in, let’s get you situated.”
He took two of by bags and I took one, and he led the way inside the house. I didn’t get to see much of the first floor because the stairs were right by the door. The steps creaked as we walked and I figured this would be a problem when I came down for my usual midnight snacks. My room was at the end of the hallway. It, like everything else I’d seen of the house, was rustic and not heavily furnished. There was only a dresser, a desk and chair, a twin sized bed with a random pattern quilt on it, and a nightstand. But I didn’t need much. After all, it was only for two and a half months.
“Well you get yourself set up, and I’ll have Miss Danni call you down for dinner.” With another big smile, Billy closed the door behind him as he left the room.
I went about putting my clothes in the dresser and putting the pictures of my family that they had insisted I bring on the desk. After standing in the middle of the room for a few minutes, I decided I was hot and went to open the window. From it, I could see a grassy lawn and then behind that, a little lake. At least there was a place for me to swim.
I was so busy looking out the window that it startled me when I heard Miss Danni calling me down for dinner. She showed me to the dining room, where there was a long wooden table and ten chairs around it. Another boy, probably a bit younger than me, was already sitting at the table. His head was down and his shaggy black hair hid his face, so I wasn’t sure if he was asleep, dead, or just quiet.
I stood in the corner, waiting for everyone else to come and take their seat, just so I wouldn’t embarrass myself by committing some horrible offense by taking someone else’s spot. I could hear Miss Danni from the kitchen calling people inside.
“Louise! Etta! Kay! Marlee! Sale!” she called. “Get in here!”
After a few moments, footsteps and giggles could be heard. I became frantic. The girls. The girls both Billy and Miss Danni had warned me about. They were here. In this house. About to eat. With me. Um. Scary.
“Now y’all wash your hands. Marlee, don’t you dare get soap on that new dress,” Miss Danni said. Her scolding sounded more affectionate than parental.
“Oh, but look, Miss Danni, she’s already got dirt on it,” a loud, feminine voice sang out.
“You just shut up, Etta, you know you’re just jealous you didn’t get a new dress,” another girl said. Her voice was high-pitched. Teasing. Somehow it felt like she had an authority over the others.
“Hush, girls, and put your shoes on before you go out there,” Miss Danni ordered tiredly.
“Oh, that’s right, we have a guest to impress, right, Louise?” It was that same voice with the authority.
“He probably ain’t even cute.” This girl had the most Southern accent out of all of them. “You just watch, Marlee. If he’s not, Sale can have him. After all, she would be too shy to talk to him anyway.”
“You don’t talk,” said a much quieter voice.
In a second, five girls paraded into the room. As soon as they entered, their eyes locked on me. I felt my face burning.
They were all so pretty. Two were blondes, one skinnier and taller than the other, and that was the one whose hands were on her hips which were bared by a yellow top that was shorter than should be allowed. Both of them were extremely tanned. Another had skin the color of milk-chocolate and long braided hair. The shortest one was very pale and had short black hair pulled into pigtails. Only one of the girls were in a dress, a strapless yellow one that ended above her knees, and I guessed this was the infamous Marlee. Her hair was dark, dark red and her eyes were brown like burnt ribs. She was the first to speak.
“Brody?” she questioned.
“Uh… uh-huh.” Words always seemed to fail me at the worst times.
“Nice to meet you, Brody,” she smiled, which seemed to only add to her beauty. “How old are you?”
“Um, seventeen.”
“Ha!” The shorter, plumper blonde pumped her fist into the air. “I won the bet, guys!”
“Yeah, yeah,” the other blonde said. “We’ll give you your money later.”
“Anyway.” Marlee directed the attention to herself again. “Let us introduce ourselves. I’m Marlee, and I’m fifteen years old.”
“The name’s Louise and I’m eighteen,” the tall blonde announced.
“I’m Etta and I’m seventeen,” the other blonde said.
“Kay. Also seventeen,” the braids girl said.
“Um, and I’m Sale. Um, and I’m thirteen. Um, yeah,” the shortest one murmured.
I couldn’t help the confused look that came onto my face when she said her name. Louise picked up on this.
“Her mother was a hopeless bargain shopper,” she explains. “Sale was a very unfortunate child.”
