Hunting Her Mate

Nowheresville, Louisiana 

Rory

“Is that pig wearing a diaper?”

Grandmother, my new guardian as of now, looked over her shoulder and laughed. “That’s Dolly, Sweetie. You don’t remember her? She’s my house pet.”

No, I didn’t.

I remembered very little of this place. It’d been years since we crossed the Texas state line into Louisiana and visited my mother’s mother.

When Mom ran off when I was ten years old, my father became a shell of the man I once knew. The marine who once was playful and caring had turned hard like a drill sergeant.

Now he was stationed overseas and I’d rather eat nails than join him.

Hence my new residence in Nowheresville, Louisiana. Population under one thousand. Two gas stations. One restaurant. Hope you like burgers and a thirty-minute drive to the nearest grocery store.

It was a living hell compared to Dallas where I’d lived my entire life.

I tightened my fingers on my rolling suitcase handle and sighed heavily. It wasn’t my grandmother’s fault I was here, but it hurt my chest to think of home.

I missed my friends and the short drive to the mall. At least Dad let me shop before he rushed off to Israel.

“I don’t remember her,” I said blankly.

Grandmother shut the trunk of her Camry and stepped beside me. Her small cabin was nestled into a field near a forest. The pine trees had my nose itching but the place was pretty. Private. Lots of fresh air. That’s what Dad said anyway.

It just looked like a small cabin to me.

Grandmother swiped her wrinkled hand across her forehead and looked out at the farm animals. “I have chickens, horses, and goats. I’ll have you help me feed them all before school. We get up with the sun around here.”

I inwardly groaned. That was not what I wanted to hear.

She started toward the front porch from under a magnolia tree where she’d parked. “It’s not much but it’s home. Your dad had a TV sent over for your room.” She grabbed the screened door handle. “I hope you know how to set it up because I don’t fool with that stuff. He mentioned the internet for school. I’m sure we can get someone out here to install it.”

The door squeaked as she opened it and the smell of baked apple pie wafted outward. My stomach grumbled. I didn’t get homemade anything back home.

Dad wasn’t a cook and I didn’t pretend to be either. Life consisted of takeout and me begging to go over to my friend Scarlett’s house to eat twice a week.

The front room had an old couch, one recliner, and a dining room to the side. There was no artwork. Just a lamp and one lone picture of Mom and me when I was around four years old.

A lump formed in my throat but Dolly running past my feet knocked it out.

Grandmother laughed and pulled my extra duffle over her shoulder toward a small hallway. “Don’t worry about her. She thinks she runs the house.”

I followed her path down the hallway to a small bedroom on the opposite side of the bathroom. There was a small twin-size bed, a purple comforter, a desk, and one small set of chest of drawers.

My luggage was full of my clothes but no decorations. Dad said he’d send me money every month, so maybe, I could spruce the place up a bit over the year. It had potential.

The window was positioned over my bed and looked out over the forest.

Grandmother put my duffle in the center of my bed and braced her fists on her hips. She wore loose blue jeans and a T-shirt that looked made for working men. Her hair was short, in small curls against her head, but she had a youthful face considering her age.

“It’s not much but it will do for now,” she said, looking up at me.

I would often forget where I got my eyes from. The electric green color was vibrant and rare. When she looked at me it gave me chills.

Not that I hadn’t looked in the mirror at it for the past seventeen years.

“Are you hungry? I have some fried chicken and apple pie ready for us.”

I pulled my luggage toward the bed and tucked my ebony hair behind my ears. “I’m starving. We grabbed tacos for lunch before I got on the plane but that was hours ago.”

“Then come on, Sweetheart. We’ll have some supper.”

She left me in my new room as I fought back tears. I wanted to climb into my giant bed back home and slip under the downy comforter. Maybe Scarlett’s mom would let me stay with them during our senior year?

I wiped away my tears because it was too late to change anything.

I was here to stay.

Grandmother had our plates ready when I walked in and slipped into my chair. The chicken smelled delicious and so did the pie. I took a bite of my chicken leg and moaned. “This is great, Grandmother.”

“Thank you, Honey. I’ll have to teach you how to cook for yourself so you’re not dependent on fast food. It’s not good for you. I know your dad feeds you that mess.”

I didn’t respond. Seems like a rhetorical question to me.

Silence enveloped the room as we began to eat. I sipped on my sweet tea, imagining Dad in the air flying toward Israel. Will he even miss me? I hope so.

“Have you heard from Mom?” I asked without thinking.

Grandmother’s fork stalled over her apple pie, and her eyes grew sad in the corners. “No, Honey. I haven’t.”

That was all that needed to be said. It wasn’t just Dad and I that suffered from her disappearing.

Suddenly, the crickets and the insects chirping outside of grandmother’s opened kitchen window stopped. As if someone turned off their switch.

Grandmother turned her face toward the window and stared. A wolf howled in the distance and I straightened. I didn’t like how close he sounded.

When Grandmother looked back at me there was a seriousness in her eyes. “There is one rule in this house, Rory. Do not go into the woods. Can you do that for me?”

I nodded. “Why?”

She took a slow bite and swallowed. “Because we’re not the only ones that live near this forest and nothing good comes out of it.”

I didn’t question her. She knew more about this place than I ever intended to find out.