Page 26 of The Rancher’s One and Only

Ernestine wasn’t dangerous. She didn’t have a protective layer over the top of her, whatever thing most people wore to make themselves into something new. Into someone who might fit in.

People wore a variety of masks, and Ernestine didn’t seem to wear one at all.

“No. Not strictly. Because you still have to have a fair amount of your own information to figure out where to start. I can see how, in the interest of not digging in places where you won’t find anything, not disrupting and gouging the land, it can be valuable. But I also… I don’t know, I think it takes away from the romanticism of it slightly. From that discovery process.”

He crossed his arms and rocked back on his heels. “Is that what you’re going to write up in your research report?”

“Probably not in quite those words. Nobody cares about my feelings. They just want to know if it’s useful. And I would say that it is. But, I would also say it’s not a replacement for knowledge, research and documentation.”

“Yeah. That’s fair. I guess it’s kind of like… I think it’s great that there are a lot of avenues to learning now. The internet has opened up a lot of information to a lot of people.”

“But it’s not vetted,” she said.

“No. True. It’s not. But that was kind of what I was getting to. I’m incredibly grateful for being able to learn martial arts in an actual dojo. From a sensei who could look at me and personally train me. I had to work for that, because I didn’t have any money to pay for it. And work I did. I think there was a lot of value in that. I also don’t begrudge anyone getting the info in other ways.”

“Yeah. That’s a good way of putting it.”

He stepped back and looked at the rock formation. “Are you going to dig out this whole thing?”

“I’m going to work on it. It’s a lot of tedious labor for these bursts of reward. But it’s very repetitive, contemplative work, and I do like that.”

“We are the same, you and I,” he said, smiling.

She looked at him with a little glint in her eye. “I do like that trope.”

“Oh what, when the villain says that to the hero in a movie?”

“A movie, a show, a book.”

“You like stories.”

“I do. I know that I may seem like the kind of person who would be more interested in nonfiction, but as I said, I see science as a particular sort of story. Because of that, I think I gravitate toward fiction. Well, and sometimes I just think the world is boring. And terrible. So imagining a fantasy world is a lot nicer.”

“I never felt like I had the luxury of trying to escape this world like that,” he said. Not meaning to get quite that deep. “I always felt like I had to keep watch.”

Her eyes were soft behind her glasses. “Oh. I think that’s really sad. When kids were mean to me in school, before I pulled out and got into an accelerated program, I spent a lot of my time reading. Just ignoring it all. Pretending it wasn’t happening. I would make my own stories in my head. I would especially do it before I fell asleep because it was better than just thinking about the day.”

He had been through a lot of stuff. He’d been bullied, in a fashion, because where he lived had been rough, and then once he was in foster care there had been a lot of different dynamics. But the idea of her being treated that way really got him. She was sweet. And he hated that he’d been part of bringing up any of that. Because he’d simply been trying to tease her, not make her feel bad. And he hated the idea that anyone had ever done that to her. She was soft. And being soft was a real luxury in this life. One that he hadn’t been able to afford. Somehow, she was soft in spite of all the meanness around her.

It was something that should be preserved.

“I’m sorry that people treated you that way. I guess I see what you’re saying now about originality. I think a lot of people might be threatened by it. Because they can’t access it. They can’t understand it. So they try to push you to be like them.”

“Well, yes,” she said slowly. “I do think that’s true. I think a lot of it is jealousy. But you know, some of it is that I’m weird. And I really meant what I said. It’s okay that you said that about my teeth. Because you didn’t mean anything by it, and sometimes I say things… Like the way that I was questioning you yesterday. Interrogating everybody. I really don’t like silence. So, I ask a lot of questions because I’m curious, but it’s also because I’m afraid of sitting there awkwardly.”

“Hey. Fair enough. Awkward silences… Well, it’s awkward.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “It is.”

“I don’t mind you asking questions. Feel free to keep on doing it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’ll be honest with you, people usually kind of freak out when they hear about what happened with my parents. Fair enough. Not a lot of people have been exposed to the kind of violence that I experienced in my childhood. But talk about making you feel like an alien. When somebody can even handle the story of what happened to you, it feels a little bit…tricky. So it was nice to just have you ask questions.”

“Oh, I’m glad,” she said, her cheeks turning pink. “Because I felt a little bit weird about it, and I was hoping that it didn’t come across as insensitive.”

“You seem very sensitive.”