Chapter 9

<Jasper Coven>

It's Saturday morning and I'm up before the sun so I can get a jumpstart on my chores. I try to help my mom out as much as I can and the lack of aid from my father's side means I'm usually left with all the heavy lifting. I sigh and roll over onto my side so I can see the numbers on the clock: 5:15. I pull my hand down my face and then sit up, my eyes travelling around my dark room. The curtains are drawn and my door is locked tight, a safety precaution should my dad ever find it in himself to actually come upstairs.

I push back my tattered quilt and stand up, searching around my room for some clean clothes. I pull on a white t-shirt and a pair of worn blue jeans. I grab the baseball hat from my dresser and then walk cautiously down stairs, praying that my dad isn't awake. I let out a deep breath when I reach the kitchen and see him still passed out in his recliner. I roll my shoulders a few times and fill a travel mug with bitter black coffee. I slip on a pair of work boots and grab a banana along with my car keys before exiting through the back door. I slip into my pick-up and set down my breakfast before I begin driving towards the chicken coops.

I hop out grudgingly and grab a red bucket from the ground by the coop. I fill the bucket carefully with eggs and then sprinkle some feed in front of the animals before I clean out all the dirty hay, laying down a fresh bed for the chickens to rest on. Next I drive towards the horse stalls where the three family horses are housed. They're getting pretty old so we don't use them for much, but my mom likes to keep them around anyway. I humor her because the horses are one of the few things that can put a smile on her face anymore. I put a bridle on each of the horses and let them go graze in a nearby pasture, so that I can clean out their stalls. I rake the dirty hay and refill their water troughs before going back to my truck. I squirt some hand sanitizer onto my palms and then take a sip of my now cold coffee.

Hands firmly planted on the steering wheel, I drive towards the barn that's on the back of my dad's property, past the corn fields and my mom's garden. I park my truck and walk towards the barn where I can hear the sounds of hungry cows coming through the red wood. With much effort, I push back the door and let the cows go graze while I clean out the hay and water troughs like I did with the horses. Next I move onto the pig pen, where the animals' squeals pierce my ears. I roll my eyes as I put on a pair of gloves and grab a bucket of feed. I dump it into their food trough and refill their water as the sun begins to rise.

"Enjoy." I mutter with disgust and then make my way back towards my truck and the rest of the chores that await me.

~~~~~

I've put the horses and the cows back where they belong, all of the stalls have been cleaned and now it's time to take care of my mother's prized garden. I turn off my truck right next to the fence that separates her garden from the rest of the property. I grab a pair of gardening gloves from the shed and some tools before I begin to weed around all of the blooming plants. She grows different types of plants in every season so we'll have fresh produce year-round. Since it's almost fall that means it's time for tomatoes, okra, apples, collards, peaches and herbs.

She originally set up this garden as a way to get some money on the side; money that she was going to put into an escape fund for me and her, but then my dad found the tin can underneath the sink and beat her heavily for hiding so much money from him. After that, she abandoned the plan and went right back to being his caretaker and faithful companion. She used the money to pay his legal bills and all of the expenses that seemed to keep piling up. I fought with her for weeks about her decision, but in the end I gave up because I knew I'd never be able to change her mind.

I finish weeding as much as I can and then I grab the hose, setting it on the 'light spray' function, so I can water her plants in the hopes that they'll survive the Texas heat. I direct it towards the garden and watch as the sun rises over the calm farm. As much as I hate my early morning chores, nothing beats watching the sun rise, unobscured in all its natural beauty. It casts it light over all creation and reminds me of why getting up early can be worthwhile sometimes. I finish watering the garden and wind up the hose, setting it inside of the shed next to the gardening tools and the work gloves.

I get in my truck and drive back towards the farmhouse slowly, taking extra precaution to not run over any bumps and break the eggs I'd collected this morning. I grab the bucket and run up to the back door, so I can give them to my mom. The lights in the kitchen are on and my mom is standing over the stove in a pair of jeans and a button-up shirt. She's furiously stirring something with a wooden spoon, her forehead contorted with worry. I set the bucket down and give her a kiss on the cheek.

"Hey, mama." I smile and bend down to tie my work boots tighter.

"Hey, baby, did you take care of my garden?" My mom asks as she turns down the heat on the stove.

"Already done; do you need me to pick some stuff for the farmer's market?" I ask willingly.

"Yeah, if you wouldn't mind." She says with a small sigh. "I want to make some good money so I can take care of all the legal bills."

"Make him pay his own damn bills; this is your money." I mutter, my jaw twitching angrily.

"Jasper, sweetie, it's not that easy." My mom sighs and tucks some overgrown blond hair behind my ears. "I appreciate everything you're doin' for me."

"Just tryin' to help out." I say softly and then turn on my heel to go back to my truck.

I drive to her garden and pull out as many wooden crates as I can carry. I fill them with anything that looks ripe and then load them in the back of my truck. I repeat this a few times until the bed of my truck is completely covered in wooden produce boxes. I sigh and drive back to the house where my mom is waiting on the back porch.

"Do you have some peaches and apples, sweetheart? I need to make my pies." My mom taps her foot as I go searching for the bin I'd set aside for her almost famous pies.

"Here they are, mama." I smile and hand her the bin.

"Thanks, are you going to fix the fence now?" My mom asks with a pitying look at me.

I lead such an exciting life.

"Of course." I reply and slip back into my car, driving towards the far end of our property where a molding fence sits.

It's technically supposed to keep our animals in and wild animals as well as people out, but it's been doing an awful job of that lately. I pull out the power tools from the shed and the new wood my dad stole from the supply store. I put on a pair of work gloves and use a crow bar to rip the rotting boards from the frame of the fence. I use the back end of a hammer to pull the nails from the boards before I toss them into a pile. I cut new boards from the fresh wood and nail them into place. Soon enough the fence is back together and I'm panting in the sudden heat, the sun now directly overhead.

I put the tools away and drag the wood towards a pile of scraps my mom set out for the trash men to collect when they come by. I get into my truck and drive towards the house once again so I can get some water and take a shower. I take off my boots in the mud room, so I won't track dirt all over the house and then I walk into the kitchen where the smells of my mom's apple pies fill the atmosphere, replacing the stale alcohol and smoke of usual.

"Jasper, your dad has to appear in court today, so I won't be able to go to the farmer's market. Will you be okay doing it on your own?" My mom asks distractedly while she cuts up some more apples.

"Yeah, let me grab a quick shower and then I can head over." I say and check the clock to see what time it is.

Only 9:15...

"Thanks, sweetie, I'll put my pies and spices in the truck while you take a shower." She smiles gratefully and kisses my forehead.

I nod and walk off towards the stairs, noticing that my dad is snoring away in his chair. I roll my eyes and race up to my room to take a shower.

~~~~~

I change into a pair of fresh jeans and clean t-shirt after my shower. I put on my beat-up Converse and grab my sunglasses and baseball hat before going downstairs to see if my mom has everything in the truck. I pick up my keys and my phone as I open up the back door where my mom is sliding in a final crate of her pies. She turns around and smiles when she sees me.

"Here's some money to make change with." My mom says as she hands me a few crumpled bills. "It's about twenty dollars."

"I'll be back in time for dinner." I state and kiss her forehead. "Please don't go to bed too early; you know I can't handle him on my own."

"I'll try my hardest." She responds and hugs me tightly. "I love you."

"I love you too, mama." I reply and slip into the front seat of my truck.

I turn the key in the ignition and drive down the dirt road towards the little town of Everington, Texas. It's like every small town in the U.S.; people are stuck in their own little world and nothing ever seems to change. Everyone knows their neighbors and one person's problems could become headlining news; my family has a lot of experience with that.

Around Everington, my dad is known as the 'town drunk', a nickname he's barely aware of since he hasn't left the house in years. Some of the people pity me for it while others give me dirty looks and use it to fuel gossip that they share behind my back. The latter are my reason for spending the least amount of time in town as possible. I'm tired of ignorant people talking about me and my problems like they actually understand what's going on. Honestly, if they aren't going to help me out then they should keep their lips sealed because I'm doing my best.

I park on the road near the spot where my stand usually is. I get out and lock my truck up tight before I go to the sign-in booth. There's a little girl sitting behind the table with a clipboard and a nametag that reads 'Lacey'.

"Hi, what's the name for sign-in?" Lacey asks in a bubbly voice, a manner reminiscent of Callie.

"Jasper Coven." I say with a polite smile.

"Here you go. Your booth is on the east end, Mr. Coven." She grins and hands me a nametag with 'Jasper' written on it in neat handwriting.

"Thank you," I nod and walk towards my usual booth.

I take a detour back to my truck half a block away from my stand and grab the sign that says what I'm selling as well as the cash box. I slip the wad of bills my mom gave me into the metal container and then I tape my sign to the front of the wooden stand. Once satisfied, I go back to my truck one final time to grab some crates of produce and my mom's pies.

I drop the tailgate on my truck and stack a few crates together, grabbing them before I carefully walk back to my booth. I set up the displays of fruits, vegetables and pies just as the mid-morning customers begin to file in; the early bird rush having finished a few minutes ago. An elderly lady named Mrs. Arthurs comes to my booth with one of her friends and picks up a peach from the nearest crate, running her fingers over its smooth surface.

"Hey, Jasper, the pickins' are looking great so far." She comments with an enthusiastic smile.

"Thanks, God has blessed us with a great growing season." I say brightly and take a seat behind my stand. "What can I help you with today?"

"Did your mama send any of her famous apple pies?" Mrs. Arthurs winks and waits expectantly for the answer.

"Of course," I reply and point at the stack of pies on the table.

"I'll take four or five of these, honey; I could eat them all day!" She chuckles and pulls out her wallet.

I bundle her pies together and accept the payment, slipping it discreetly into the cash box.

"Would you like me to take these to your car for you?" I ask politely as I stand up.

"You're such a gentleman; if you wouldn't mind helping us out, Jasper." Mrs. Arthurs says indicating her and her friend.

I stand up, pies in hand, and follow her to her well-loved Honda Camry. I set the pies in the back seat and open up her door for her and her friend. They slip inside and then Mrs. Arthurs pinches my cheeks with a grin.

"Thank you, Jasper, honey. Tell your mama that we really must have dinner sometime, any day she can get away from your daddy is good for me." Mrs. Arthur blows me a kiss as she drives away.

I've known Mrs. Arthurs since I was ten. She's now retired, but back then she worked at the police station in town where my mom would always go file domestic abuse reports. My brother and I would sit in the police station while our tearful mom, bloody and bruised, explained to Mrs. Arthurs what happened. It was always the same story and Mrs. Arthurs would always give her the same advice: get a divorce. My mom came close a few times, but somehow my dad always convinced her out of it. No matter what he did to her, she would always find a reason to go back, to believe things would get better even though she knew they never would.

~~~~~

It's about 3 o'clock and I've sold almost everything at my booth which means I have to go back to the truck to get the rest of the crates. I'm about to put up the 'away for the moment' sign when a family walks up to my booth. There's a woman dressed in a floral sundress and a man who opted for a pair of jeans. Almost at the level of my table is a little boy. He's dressed like the man and playing with a toy train. I'm about to tell them to come back later when a blond girl walks up and taps on the woman's shoulder.

"Hey, guys, there was a stand back there that's selling sunflowers." She says with a bright smile and then turns to face my stand.

My heart hammers in my chest when I realize that the girl talking to her mother in front of my booth is none other than Callie, overly optimistic and perky as ever. I stand frozen in my spot, not even sure of what I'm waiting for anymore.

I just want to hide in all honesty.

"Jasper, what are you doing here? Do you work here?" She asks with a grin as I release a deep breath, coming face to face with her.

Well, I'm definitely not here for my health, Captain Obvious.

I hold my tongue, the sarcastic remark biting at my cheek and instead decide to be nice to her since her parents are a mere foot away.

"Yeah, I was about to go get some more crates of produce if y'all want to wait around." I say, addressing her family more than her.

The people, who I'm assuming are her parents, give me an enthusiastic nod.

"Can I help you with anything?" She asks, her head tilted slightly.

I grit my teeth and hold back an eye roll before agreeing with my most pleasant expression. I turn on my heel and make my way back towards my truck with Callie following close behind. I reach it first and drop the tailgate without so much as a word to her. I begin to consolidate crates to be carried back to my booth.

"I cannot figure out what your deal is," I mutter and hand her the lightest crate I can find.

"What do you mean?" She chuckles and waits for me to get a grip on the crates I'm carrying.

"I mean; most people would let the employees serve them, but you insist upon helping the employees." I say with a slight edge.

"I get the feeling that you wouldn't be grilling anyone else about their reasons for helping, but because it's me..." Her voice trails off as I get a grip on the crates I'm carrying.

We walk in silence  and then I set the crates down next to my stand before telling her parents that there's just one more trip to make.

"Take your time." Her father says with an amused glance.

I hear footsteps behind me and I let out a sigh.

"Jasper, why is it so bad that I'm being nice to you? I'm not doing this so I can backstab you later, if that's what you think." Callie crosses her arms and gives a small glare.

"No one is nice just to be nice in this town. I have been backstabbed, forsaken, abused and ridiculed all of my life. I'm sorry that I don't see the simple good in just being nice." I huff and climb up into the bed of my truck.

I slide a few crates down towards Callie who catches them and steadies them in her arms.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know..." Callie opens and closes her mouth a few times, trying to formulate a sentence.

"I know, you didn't. The people who have done those things to me my whole life don't even realize it. No hard feelings, that's just why I'm such an asshole to you and everyone. I don't believe in being nice because it just leads to heartbreak since no one is ever truly nice back." I hop down from my truck and hand her the final crate of peaches.

"That's not fair, there are people who are just nice to be nice." Callie sticks out her bottom lip like a child who's been told that Santa Claus isn't real.

"You're naïve, Callie; it's time to wake up and face the music." I grab the final few crates out of my truck and struggle to lift the tailgate back up.

"Jasper, I just carted a bunch of smelly crates filled with produce for you without expecting anything in return. That's an example of being nice for the heck of it." Callie and I continue to walk slowly back towards my booth.

I'm silent for a little while before I respond.

"Weren't you just trying to bother me? Doesn't annoying me give you the kicks you want?" I mutter without a trace of humor in my voice.

"I know you're used to people doing things just to get a reaction out of you, but I'm not like that. I want to be friends with you, I genuinely want to get to know you." Callie says in a pleading tone.

Did she just say that she wanted to be friends? She's got to be kidding me...

"Why on earth would you want to be friends with me? Aren't there other people more pleasurable to spend your time with?" I ask with gritted teeth.

Honestly, she's like a leech; no matter what I do she'll never leave me alone.

"I'm new here, I'm not like the people you're used to. I won't do to you what they did." Callie gives me a small smile, but I'm not convinced.

"You're avoiding my question. I want to know what possessed you to want to spend time with an asshole like me." I stop by a tree far enough away from my booth that her parents won't be able to overhear our conversation and then I wait for her response.

"Quit beating yourself up; you're misunderstood and rude at most. I've seen the way people treat you at school; they walk all over you and talk about you like you don't have feelings. You've been treated terribly your whole life and I'd rather get to know the real you instead of the rumors people spread." Callie reaches out and rubs my shoulder comfortingly, almost losing her grip on the crate she's holding.

She regains control over it and looks at me, her eyes meeting my questioning gaze.

"Did I say something else wrong?" She retorts, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"No." I mutter, my voice softening. "You're different, Callie."

"Why is that such a bad thing? One would think it'd be a breath of fresh air to you." Callie gives me an annoyed glance, but her eyes aren't narrowed in anger anymore.

"It is," I say in a slow, skeptical tone. "That still doesn't explain why you'd want to be friends with me; there are plenty of people in that God forsaken school that would jump at a chance to be your friend."

"You're different too, Jasper. Most people at the school are like the same people I left back in L.A., but there's something intriguing about you. I feel like no one really knows you and that makes me want to figure you out." Callie lets out a deep breath, gauging my reaction.

Great, so, she basically wants me because no one else does.

"Some people don't want to be figured out, Callie." I narrow my eyes and try to decipher what could possibly be going through her head right now that would make her think I'm someone she'd want to figure out.

"I respect that, but could we at least try to be friends? If it's any consolation, I think you're fun to be around." Callie cracks a joking smile and looks down at the crate of peaches in her arms.

"Thank you for helping me with the crates." I walk off towards my booth with her following close on my heels.

"Now you're ignoring my question." Callie hisses as we reach my table.

"Sorry that took so long. There's all types of produce here so just take your pick and feel free to sample anything if you need to." I smile politely and expertly ignore Callie while her mother picks up a peach.

I hear Callie let out an annoyed sigh before walking over to her father and narrowing her eyes at me.

"How much?" Her mom smiles at me and holds up a peach.

"They're $3 a pound, ma'am." I cross my arms and watch her pick up a few more.

"Callie, do you want anything?" Her mom asks in a sweet voice, like she's trying to force Callie to be polite.

She makes her way towards her mom, a fake smile on her face while her gaze never leaves me. Her eyes are heated and still narrowed slightly, implying that she's faking this solely for her mom's benefit.

"Those apple pies look good, mother." She mutters, her tone is polite, but forced, as she points at my last apple pie.

"We'll take that pie and these peaches." Callie's mom places her peaches on the steel scale in front of me and hands me the pie.

"It'll be $7, please." I hand her a receipt and she hands me $7.

"Thank you so much, sweetheart." She slips the peaches into her straw tote before grabbing her son's little hand.

Callie drops a $10 bill my tip jar and she almost walks away before I grab her arm.

"I don't need charity." I tighten my grip on her arm and try to place the money in her hand.

"Well, I don't want it back." She sticks out her bottom lip showing me that she isn't budging.

"Callie," I grit my teeth.

"I have to go." Callie tears her arm out of my grip.

I crumple the bill in my hands and throw it in the cash box as I sit down at my booth once again.

~~~~~

The market is closed and all of my empty crates have been loaded back into the bed of my truck. I grab the cash box and the sign before getting into the front seat and turning the key in the ignition. The sun is softer and less pronounced in the sky, but still casting a warm glow over everything. I follow the dirt road back to the farm house where I see my mom's car already parked out front. I grab the cash box and hold it close to my body as I walk up to the front door.

I pull out my keys and let myself in where I'm met by a habitual silence, the only sounds being that of my mom cooking in the kitchen. I walk down the hallway and find my mom at the stove, stirring something silently, so she can avoid angering my father. I come up behind her and wrap my arms around her fear-riddled figure.

"Oh, it's only you." My mom says and lets out a deep breath like I almost gave her a heart attack.

"What a resounding greeting." I give a slight chuckle and then set the cash box down.

"You know what I mean; how did the market go today?" She asks with a gentle smile.

"Sold everything; how did court go?" I respond and wait expectantly for her answer.

"Just community service and a hefty fine," My mom replies with disappointment.

Someday I pray they'll put him in jail where he belongs.

My mom seems to register what I'm thinking and gives me a warning look.

"He's awake in the next room; don't make any comments you'll regret later." She whispers and goes back to stirring whatever we're having for dinner.

"What should I do with what I earned from the market today?" I ask in a low voice, so my father won't hear what we're talking about.

"You can have thirty dollars from the earnings and then can you put the rest in the safe-lock box in my room?" My mom turns towards me and tilts her head. "Thank you again."

"You're welcome." I smile and walk off towards the stairs.

I go past my room and turn into the room my parents theoretically share, even though my dad hasn't sleep anywhere except for his chair in years. I go to my mom's closet and put in the combination for the safe-lock box where she keeps her rainy day fund. I empty the cash and take thirty dollars for myself like she said. I slam the door shut and shove the box back behind her church dresses that have been reduced to collecting dust. I walk out of the room and go into my own where I search my t-shirt drawer for the tin can where I keep all of the money I've earned.

Just because she's doesn't want an escape fund doesn't mean I'm not going to make one anyway; someday we'll both need it.