She parked in front of the house and practiced the deep breathing techniques her doctor had shown her as she went inside. She continued doing this as she went to the kitchen and poured a glass of cold water. Sitting at the table, feeling slightly numb, she took small sips of the water and continued breathing slowly. Inhale for four seconds, hold it there for four seconds, then exhale for four seconds followed by a sip of water. She did this again and again until the glass was empty and she finally felt a tiny bit better.
But as she sat there, she wondered if she would really care if her blood pressure went so high that it snuffed out her life. Wouldn’t the next life be better than living like this? Jewel and Cooper could handle CT without her ... or help him to get into some form of assisted care. And she would be free ... free at last, thank God Almighty, she’d be free at last.
Of course, these thoughts were followed by a flood of tears. How had she come to this? Did she really not care about CT? The man she’d promised to love in sickness and in health, the man she’d committed to love till death did they part? She wanted to abandon him now? Like this? She reached for a paper napkin and blotted her tears and wiped her nose.
“Dear God, help me.” She prayed the same words over and over between loud sobs. But she meant them as much as any other prayer she’d ever prayed. “Please, dear God, help me.” She wasn’t sure how long she sat there blubbering like that, sobbingand praying and going through a lot of paper napkins, but finally she wondered what had become of CT.
She hadn’t heard him come into the house, but she looked around just in case. Not seeing him anywhere inside, she went out to the front porch and gazed out across the green alfalfa field where she assumed he’d cut across to get home. The sun was low in the sky, promising a pretty sunset, but CT was nowhere in sight. Had he gone onto the road and started trekking off somewhere, deciding to run away like a naughty four-year-old? She wouldn’t put it past him. She called out his name, but there was no answer. Just the sound of magpies in the trees. She glanced to the Oroscos’ house where she imagined the party in full swing. She hoped Jewel and Cooper weren’t worried. She’d warned them that she and CT might not make it too long there. And she’d been right.
She gazed toward the barn and outbuilding. He could very likely be hiding out in one of them. She wouldn’t put it past him. It was a good way to punish her. And he did that sometimes. The barn was the most likely since he’d been grumbling about Jewel’s changes to his precious barn just today, as if he really used it for anything these days. Perhaps he was in there rearranging Jewel’s paints and easels and things ... again. Hopefully he wasn’t making a mess of it. She set out to look around.
CT
Miguel wants to kill me. I know it. He wants my farm. He has poison. I saw it on the table. It was red. He wants to kill me. They all want to kill me. Where is my gun? I want my gun. It’s in the house. I want my truck. I will get in my truck before Miguel steals it. I will get my gun and my truck. Where are my keys?My keys!Who took them? They’re not in my pockets. Nothing in my pants pockets. Nothing! Who took my things? My wallet? Where is my wallet? Miguel took it. I know it. He is a thief. He should go to jail.
No keys in my shirt pocket. What is this shirt? Where did it come from? It’s not my shirt. Who put it on me? I don’t own a shirt with flowers on it. Not me. I’m a farmer. I wear farm shirts with snaps. The snaps on this shirt don’t work. Why can’t I work these snaps! I don’t want this stupid shirt. Don’t want to wear flowers. Flowers are for girls. I’m not a girl. Must get rid of this shirt. Miguel’s shirt. He likes girl shirts. He is weird. He has poison.
He poisoned the food. Won’t eat poison food. Why do they want to kill me? What did I do to deserve this? I am not a bad man. I want my Honey. Where is my Honey? Did she give me to Miguel? She likes Miguel. Why does she like a thief? What is wrong? What is wrong? Why is it like this? I’m not a bad man. I want my Honey.
Honey
On the edge of desperation, Honey emerged from the barn and scanned the surrounding landscape again, looking in all directions. She’d already searched every outbuilding twice, even checking the hayloft in the barn. She screened her eyes against the setting sun with her hands and yelled out his name. Her throat was raspy from calling to him so many times.
Just as she was about to give up and call for help on her phone, she noticed movement in the green field to the west. Something fluttered in the air like a flag before disappearing. Was it her imagination? She stared at the spot and called out for CT. It suddenly fluttered again, a flash of something above the tops of the knee-high alfalfa plants. She wondered if it was a pheasant or a turkey getting a last meal before the sun went down. But then it appeared again, like a flag of turquoise and white. And now she remembered CT’s Hawaiian shirt with its big flowers. Was he using it to flag her attention? Perhaps he’d fallen down in the alfalfa and hurt himself. Maybe he’d broken something and was unable to stand or walk.
She ran to the field, clumsily clomping through the thick alfalfa plants while trying to reach the spot where she’d glimpsed his shirt. “CT!” she yelled again. Why had she let him walk off like that on his own? She knew better! Poor CT, he did not deserve this.
“CT,” she called yet again as she trudged through the field. “I’m coming!”
There was the flapping of that shirt again. Hewasflagging her. Still calling out, she tried to run, then realized how easy it would be to trip among the thick plants. That was probably how CT had fallen.
Finally, she reached him. Flat on his back, he was shirtless and dirty, looking up at her with a lost expression and a tear-streaked face. And his jeans were wet.
“Oh, CT.” She knelt at his side. “What happened?”
“I fell down,” he muttered.
“Are you hurt?”
“Uh-huh.” He pointed to his right leg. “My foot.”
She cuffed his pant leg to examine him. His ankle was quite swollen. He winced as she checked to see if anything seemed broken. “I think you sprained it,” she explained.
“Hurts.”
“I’m sure it does.” She looked around the sea of green, trying to decide what to do. The sky was growing dusky. She could call Jewel to bring help, but she hated to disrupt her pleasant evening. The image of Miguel and Jewel working together at the barbecue had warmed Honey’s heart. “If I help you, CT, do you think you can walk?”
“I dunno.” He sat up and frowned. “I think so.”
“Okay then.” She picked up his ball cap and stuck it on his head.
“I got wet.”
“I know, sweetie.” She put her arm snugly beneath his arms and then got herself into a squatting position. “It’s okay. I’ll help you get to your feet.”
“Okay.”
“Just put your weight on your left leg, okay?”
