Chapter 13

Wednesday I pulled Hardesty's business card out and punched the phone number into my cellphone. Ring. Ring. "South End Middle School. Hardesty speaking."

"Jim Hardesty? This is Dan Richards, Cindy's, uh, tutor, I guess..."

"Oh, hello, Dan," he said. "I'm sorry I haven't put that information together for ya'll yet..."

"Thanks, Jim, but that wasn't why I was calling. Can you do me a favor?"

"Sure. I'll try. Whatcha got?"

"Tuesday we said that Cindy's schedule might be flexible. Can you see if I can pull her out of school Friday? I'm wanting to bring her out to the job and let her see a real project in progress."

"Oh. For little Miss I Wanna Be An Engineer? Shouldn't be a problem. I'll call you back."

"Thanks, Jim," I said.

"Not a problem, Dan. Hey! I was serious. It's barbecue an' beer season. You can come over for supper. Give me a call."

"I haven't forgotten. I'll do that. Talk to you later.

Forty-five minutes later I was standing in front of a transformer, pointing at a detail for the electrical foreman and my cellphone went off. I flipped it open. "Hey Jim. Whatcha got?"

Hardesty said, "I checked with Cindy's teachers. They sounded relieved that she'll be out on Friday."

"Hey, thanks," I said. "I'll give you a call next week about dinner."

"'Kay, bud," He said. My phone clicked. I returned to my conversation about the job. The foreman understood what we needed, and I headed back across the plant to the trailer that housed my office.

"Hey, Dan," said Sara. She was our secretary/administrator/receptionist/gal Friday.

"Hey, Sara. I'm bringin' company with me Friday."

"Oh, yeah? Who?"

"Fourteen year old genius named Cindy. Lives at the RV park where I stay. Wants to be an engineer."

Laughter. "Yeah. Show her what you do out here. She'll change that to ballet!"

I'd already taken care of details like clearing the visit with the superintendent and the safety guy, so I was on good ground for Cindy's visit. I spent the rest of my day at my desk with a red pencil, marking up changes and additions to installation drawings. Four o'clock, and I was out the door.

Entering the park, I stopped at the front office. As usual, Helen was being entertained by Cindy.

"Hello, Helen, hello, little green-eyed girl," I said to them. "Cindy, you're gonna hate me."

"Why?"

"'Cuz I called your school today and got you out of class Friday so you can go to work with me."

Squeal. Bounce. Hug. And a kiss of the variety one might expect between friends when one does the other a favor. "Really?"

"Yep," I said. "I already cleared it with safety an' with the boss. Let's go get you some work shoes. We can eat while we're out."

Helen said, "Dan, you're spoiling her."

"Nah," I said. "It's nice to have a buddy. I just have to figure out how I can explain her off when we go to visit the Hardesty's next week."

"My counselor?"

"Yeah. Ex-marine."

Helen laughed. "You need to go, Cindy. You'll get to see 'em gruntin' an' crawlin' in the dirt an' stuff."

"Oh, come on, Helen. I was an engineer an' he was a pilot. Neither of us grunt much."

She was chuckling as Cindy and I loaded up in the truck. An hour later we were in possession of a sturdy pair of girl-sized work shoes, for which I had to tip my hat to equality in the workplace. And we were at dinner at one of those country diners that always seem to provide decent food for cheap. The ride home was conversation while she shuffled through my CD selections, then, "Nah ... We can talk some more."

"I'm just about talked out. You talk."

"Yah remember me talkin' about Miss My Daddy's a Lawyer?"

"Yeah. You didn't punch her or somethin'?"

"Oh, no. We're zero tolerance. They'd call Mizz Helen." She continued, "But let me tell you ... I was finished with the math. Took me five minutes to do those problems the teacher gave me. So I was reading. And the teacher was going around helping kids that were having trouble. And she told ME to go help the first row. An' that's Miss My Daddy's a Lawyer, sitting up front, center."

"And you're telling me that you helped her?"

Yeah. And she thanked me."

"Good. You usually have a choice with how to deal with people. Sometimes they choose to make it unpleasant, and that puts a whole new set of problems in front of you, but if THEY don't make that choice, then YOU choose to make it as pleasant as possible."

"Yeah. I see you doin' that all the time. Now that I know what to look for. And another thing. Nobody's making fun of my clothes any more. You an' Mizz Helen fixed that for me. Andddd..." She emphasized the "d", "I am trying to speak more properly."

"I can tell," I said. " But remember, language is important to people, and if you sound like you're putting on a show or trying to show people up, well, that can bring difficulties. I'm not saying you have to talk like you just fell off a pulpwood truck, but care about the people you're speaking with."

"Okay. But thanks for noticing."

"No, thank YOU for trying." And it was these little steps that made me think that my Cindy was going to grow into a spectacular human being.

We walked into the trailer and went about the evening routine of bathing and hair care and shaving and she pulled a nightshirt over her head, then turned to me and said, "You know, we could go to bed early..." And we did.

Afterward, we lay in each other's arms, listening to soft music.

"You know," she said, "I've been reading some extra books for history."

"No, I didn't know that. That's good, though."

"About customs andddd stuff with the pioneers when the country was young."

"Yeah?"

"Well, you know, it's funny, but back then if a girl was having periods, they thought she was old enough to get married, because she was old enough to have babies."

"You need to think about something, though," I said.

"What's that?"

"Girls didn't go through puberty as young as they do now."

"Oh. But still, that was one thing. Another thing was that people didn't have to go in front of a preacher or a judge because sometimes there wasn't one around, so they'd just announce they were married in front of their friends and neighbors and that was it."

"Uh-huh," I said. "And they'd write the date in the family Bible."

"So why can't we do that?"

"Because as soon as I announced I was married to a fourteen year old girl, I'd be ol' Bubba's boy toy in an Alabama State Prison, and now, Mizz Helen would be in trouble too."

"I mean, we can say it to each other. There'll be a real wedding when the time comes, right?"

"Yes, so I guess I can say I, Daniel Paul Richards, take you, Cynthia Susan Smith, to be my wife, the keeper of my love and my soul, until the end of days."

The green eyes got VERY serious. "And I, Cynthia Susan Smith, take you, Daniel Paul Richards, to be my husband, my happiness, my help, my friend, my love, until the stars wink out in the skies."

That is serious stuff. And that glorious night, to the strains of Boccherini, as my eyes closed to the even sounds of her sleeping breath, I knew somehow that it would be forever.

Thursday was a pretty standard day. The alarm went off, waking us both. We cuddled, caressed, fondled, then got out of bed, stretched the covers over it, and went about our morning routines, ending up at the dinette, dressed, a bowl of cereal and a mug of coffee in front of each of us. I kissed her before I headed out the door, leaving her to wait for her bus.

It was just another day on the job for me. Nothing came up that we didn't already have a handle on, and I spent the last hour of the day walking out the key parts of the project, seeing what I could bring Cindy to see. After work, back to the RV park. When I got there, Helen's van was absent. So were Helen and Cindy. The park's utility guy was in the office. I knew him, too.

"Hey, Steve," I said. "Where's Helen?"

"Hi, Dan. She took her girl Cindy to a beauty shop. Said they'd be back about five."

"Oh, okay," I answered. "Any mail there for me? Helen usually stacks it on her desk."

"I didn't see any," replied Steve. "It's almost five now. They should be showin' back up any time."

"Yeah, you're right. See you later, Steve. Be careful!" and I left for my trailer. Jim was right. No sooner than I'd exited the truck, I saw Helen's minivan driving in the front entrance. So now I was wondering what Helen and the "beauty shop" might have done to the perfection that was my Cindy.

Helen drove right past the office and pulled in behind my truck. Cindy bounced out one side of the van and Helen the other.

"You like my hair, Dan?" she was grinning, and her hair was still the color of a pocket-worn penny, now just a little shy of her jawline.

"It's shorter. That's all I can see. And definitely cute. Am I missing something?"

Helen said, "Those women at the beauty shop wanted to do ALL kinds of stuff to her, but she put her foot down and said to just trim the bangs and cut an inch off the bottom." She laughed. "Told 'em that's the way her boyfriend liked it."

Cindy grinned at me, eyes twinkling.

"She's right," I said. "You got any homework?"

"No," Cindy chirped. "All my teachers know I'm doin' a field trip with you tomorrow and I'm pretty much caught up with anything they have."

"You're past 'caught up', you know."

"Yeah, but my history and language teachers don't want to give up yet. Science and math, they gave up." She laughed.

Helen laughed, too. "Just remember, you two, we have dinner with the judge tomorrow evening."

"Yes, ma'am, I remember," I said. "We'll have plenty of time to be ready after work tomorrow."

Cindy and I walked out. "Is it too late for a swim?" she asked.

"No, we can do that."

"Good. Let's go!"

Zip to the trailer, change into swimsuits, an act that involved getting naked and subsequent groping and giggling, and we were back out the door carrying towels and headed to the pool. This little walk as a pleasant part of the day, and a few laps in the pool were an excellent way to drop stress. Of course, seeing Cindy matching me in my swimming pace, (thank God she didn't wear that bikini!) induced a whole different set of tensions. She knew it, and giggled about it, although in broad daylight, even though we had the pool to ourselves, her responses were limited to quick furtive touches and knowing grins.

"You know," she said, "this is the last weekend that the pool is open, huh?"

"Yeah, I think I saw a notice on the office bulletin board."

"Yeah," said Cindy, "Mizz Helen closes it the first weekend in October. So Sunday's our last chance to swim here."

"Yeah. We'll have to find another way to exercise."

Cool eyes. Wet bangs plastered to her forehead. And a decidedly lustful grin. "I can think of a few."

"Me too. But besides that. You don't have a bicycle?"

"Me? No."

"You've ridden a bicycle, huh?"

"Of course."

"I have a bike. You need one? We could ride together."

"Where do you have a bike? I've never seen it."

"In the storage locker. Up the road."

"You have a storage locker?"

"Yeah, baby. I can't keep EVERYTHING in that trailer. It's stuff I didn't leave back home because I knew I'd need it. I have a bike. Some camping gear. Cold weather clothes. That kind of stuff."

"Camping gear?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Like in 'spendin' the night in the woods' campin'?"

"Or on the beach. Or in the desert."

She giggled. "Uh, this is Alabama. We got woods. We even got beaches. We don't have deserts."

"Oh, dear girl, there IS life outside Alabama. If you think you saw stars the other night when we looked at the sky, let's do that again in a high desert."

"If I'm with you, I can add my own stars." She smiled.

"Well, there are a couple of tents in there."

"A couple? Why a couple?" she asked.

I have one tent for wintertime, when I need a little more weather protection, and then I have my other tent, for the summer, and it has just screen, to keep bugs out so I can see the stars."

"And what do you sleep on? The ground?"

"Nope. Big air mattress."

She looked thoughtful for a few seconds. "How big's your sleeping bag?"

It was my turn to smile. "I guess I need one a little bigger than the two I have, huh?"

"Yeah, that'd be nice, don't you think?" and she smiled sweetly.

We stepped into our trailer and did quick showers. More fondling. Irresistible. As she finished drying her hair, she spoke up. "That place we went Monday? Can we go there?"

"Sure," I said. "They have an interesting menu." And a half hour alter we were seated across from each other at a neat little table being attended to by a genteel lady who was one of the owners. We settled on choices based on her recommendations and were not a bit disappointed.

We returned home. All that was left to do was to be happy with each other, and that was as relentless as gravity. Cindy's pre-bed routine was charming and more erotic than even the hormone-surge fantasies I had as a teen, when sex was the be-all and end-all to existence.