He climbs up from the gulch, scorched dry these past eight years, draggin' his right leg like he don't want nothin' to do with it. The sun shines on his face and I think, he ain't real. Cain't be. No one comes out of that gulch. Not no more.
But unless mirages talk, he is real. This one, he talks, and he says his name is Rordan, but I cain call him Ro on account of the fact that Rordan is kind of a mouthful. The way he says it, I gotta wonder if he means in general, or just fer uneducated common folk livin' on the edge of the desert. People like me.
Two R's in one name ain't exactly a tongue twister. I don't argue the point, though, cuz I'm too caught up on the fact that this man, maybe twenty turns 'round the sun or so, is here at all. And what does he want? That's what I gotta find out. So I say, "Whadaya want?" but he just laughs at me. It's a nice laugh, not meant as belittlin'. Still, I'm annoyed and confused by it. It ain't funny to wanna know what a strange man walkin' up to my porch fifty miles south of nowhere wants. It's downright logical. I cain feel myself edgin' towards Frank, who's restin' against the back of a rickety pillar, the one barely managin' to hold my roof up over the porch. Not yet, Frank, not yet. I gotta use my words to settle this, if I cain.
"I want water," the man, Ro, reports. He cain't seem to stop grinnin' even though this ain't exactly the kind of predicament that would make normal folks happy.
"Water's a need, not a want. Didn't your ma ever teach you the difference?"
Ro laughs again and I take a step closer to Frank, who's still hidin' real good. "I guess that's true. I need water, and I want a place to rest for the night. I'm willing to work for a cool spot out of the sun, and maybe a little food too, if you have any to spare."
"Well, what cain you do?" I gotta ask him, cuz food to spare ain't exactly as common as the dust rollin' into the pastures with every passin' wind. If he wants some, he's gonna have to earn every bite.
"I can do whatever needs doing." His words shake free from his throat like a moth castin' off its cocoon.
Well, I'll be. Desperation exists behind that handsome no-care-in-the-world smile, after all. He's been bakin' in the sun too long. Soon his brain's gonna be all fried up, along with that cornhusk head of his, and he knows it. The fool part of me wants to let him right in, no questions asked, give him a tall glass of water and a bed to sleep on. The rest of me, the part that's almost in reach of Frank, thinks, not so fast.
"Everything needs doin'," I say, and that's true enough. The farm is in shambles as I'm sure this Rordan guy cain see fer himself.
Ro knows he's not gettin' too far with me. He tries fer a different approach. "Do you have a father, or a husband? Is there someone else here I can talk to?"
"The cough got pa and ma years ago," I tell him cuz there ain't no point in pretendin' those people still exist when they don't. "As fer a husband, you see a man worth marryin' anywhere near these parts, you just let me know." I feel like spittin', that's how much I think of them men, boys really, who roam these dusty plains. Ain't no use to them beyond a roll in the hay... and then where does that leave you?
"So... you're all alone here?" That's said with genuine surprise, along with a hint of something behind them blue eyes of his that I cain't quite decipher. I don't like not bein' able to figure things out, especially when the thing that needs figurin' is the motivations of a proper-talkin' stranger.
"Well, until Granddad gets back from his trip," I yank Frank out from behind the post, "it's just me and Frank, here."
I aim Frank at Ro's head, right between them pearly marbles of his, to which he responds with an understandable, "What the hell?" If he was a bit surprised that I'm holdin' my own on this farm, he's downright flabbergasted at the sight of a shotgun being drawn upon his person. He don't seem too familiar with the experience, probably on account of the fact that guns are illegal here on our peaceful little world. "Where did you get that?"
Frank, like everything else 'round here, comes from Granddad, but I don't feel a need to tell this to Ro. I stay silent while Frank and Ro have themselves a starin' competition, and it ain't hard to figure out who's gonna win it.
Ain't but a moment, and Ro looks to his feet. All the excitement he must've felt comin' up to the house thinkin' he could get all his needs and wants taken care of is long gone.
"Please." He shifts all his weight onto his good leg. "Please."
Frank wants to stay locked onto Ro, but I force him down. "You cain get some water in that well there." I point to the pump across the yard, a ways off to his right. "Help yerself."
Ro looks up, spies the well, and then takes his gaze back to meet mine. Rest assured, there ain't nothin' I cain't read in his eyes now. I nod, pleased that we got all that uncertainty out of the way, fer the time bein' at least. "I hope you don't mind goats, cuz after you feed and water 'em, they'll be sharin' their fine accommodations with you." Frank has a big influence on me and he says there ain't no way I'm lettin' this man into my house. No matter that Frank's not much of a conversationalist and I might like someone made of flesh and bones and blue eyes to talk to fer once.
Maybe Ro ain't so good a conversationalist as I thought, though, cuz he turns 'round and starts limpin' toward the water pump without so much as a word.
"My name's May, case you care to know who to direct your thank yous to."
"May." he keeps on hobblin'. "Thank you."
#
I let Ro have his drink. He tries his best to tend the goats, but he's next to worthless. They cain probably do fer themselves better than the care he's providin', but I don't interfere, cuz his half-assed goat tendin's 'bout as much entertainment as I've had since ferever.
Eventually, Ro hobbles under the goat shed, sits himself down on some hay and stretches out his bad leg, wincin' all the while. Perched on the front stoop, I'm attemptin' to fight off the heat of the day like a dog itchin' away fleas. Don't matter how much scratchin' I do, it's goin' to keep on with its daily infestation, settin' my skin to boil even in the shade. I rest Frank in my lap and watch. Pretty soon, I cain't take no more of his wincin', so I bring Frank inside and exchange him fer Ma's goat hide medicine bag, worn with time down to a smooth, soft brown. Ma was a healer, or what passes fer one out here.
Ma learned from her own ma, who learned from her pa, and so on. Been healers fer I don't know how many generations, maybe goin' back all the way to the very first folks who came here to colonize this world. Course I got no proof of that, but it's nice to think it's true, that we was always the type of family to lend a hand when it's most needed, even if the needy people might be the secretly dangerous type, hidin' their bad side under a sunburned nose and a boyish grin.
Healin's how my ma met my pa. He grew up right in this very house, the one I've been bustin' my rump tryin' to keep in one piece. Back then, the farm had more neighbors than it does now, but town was still the same distance away – too dang far. Them bein' farmers and havin' to tend to their livestock and fields, Pa had little occasion to go to town, where Ma was livin' with her healer parents. Durin' his once or twice a year excursions into civilization, he had never happened to lay eyes upon my purdy ma. It wasn't until misfortune danced with him while he was patchin' up his leaky roof, causin' him to lose his balance and fall into the shrubbery on the house's south end, that he had occasion to make her acquaintance.
Seein' Pa's leg twisted under him at an odd angle, Granddad had set it himself as best he knew how. By the next morning though, Pa was given over to a fever, and that's when Granddad knew he couldn't heal him all on his own. He'd left right away and the next day he'd returned with my ma. She'd worked her magic on him, knowin' just which tinctures and teas would ease him away from death's door.
When all was said and done, he had a leg that would keep him upright and movin' forward, plus an affection fer my ma that would bring him a joy I can only dream of. It took some convincin' but after a while Ma agreed to move out here so she could be with him. Pa continued to work the fields, and Ma, she made herself known to all the farmin' families here abouts as a midwife and healer. By the time I came along, they was the most lovin', happy couple you could imagine. Pa always said that breakin' his leg was the most fortunate misfortune of his life.
As a little girl, hearin' the story of their meetin' always filled me with wonder, not that they'd found sich love, but cuz I couldn't imagine 'em ever not havin' each other. How could they have grown up as strangers, not even knowin' the other existed? It seemed they was always together, which is probably why Pa didn't live but a few weeks beyond Ma. It's a cruel thing, havin' yer love die still so young and beautiful. Ain't everyone strong enough to keep goin' after that.
Anyways, all of this is to say that I picked up a thing or two in the healin' arts 'fore my ma succumbed. Not much, though. Not enough to cure her of the cough, nor Pa neither. Now I got my own patient, and ain't it strange that it's his leg that's the matter, just like it was with Pa! I gotta pray what I know will be enough to heal what's ailin' him.
I take ma's bag down to the goat pen, shoo them beasts out of the way with a few harsh words, and crouch down in front of Ro.
"You gonna show me it or what?" I ask him.
Ro takes a moment to decide, though I cain't imagine what kind of an 'or what' scenario could be goin' through that purdy head of his that would make him decline my help. He's really and truly out of options at this point.
"I think it's just sprained." He cuffs up his trouser leg slowly, like his leg's gonna come clean off if he ain't careful with it.
I suck in my breath and force myself to stare at that ankle, all hot and red and swollen like a goat's udders a day overdue fer milkin'.
"Just sprained? How long you been walkin' on it like that?"
"A couple of days." Those must've been some awful long days cuz he closes his eyes and leans his head back against the wall of the shed like he's rememberin' every single minute of 'em.
"Ain't good." I scoop up some of the hay from around him, makin' a little pillow out of it, then I raise up his leg as gentle as I cain and rest it on top. Out of ma's pouch comes some balm, left over from the days when there was people 'round to tend to who could benefit from it. It's old, but still, I'm assumin' from its pungent aroma that it'll work just fine. Ro scrunches up his nose so I know he's smelled it too, but he don't say nothin' 'bout it. I put a fair amount on all the parts of his ankle that look to need it.
Ro's blue eyes open while I'm tendin' to him. They rest on me and I try not to notice, try not to care where they travel to as I work on fixin' him up.
"There." I roll his pants back down. "Keep yer leg elevated, like that, and try not to move it. I'll bring some food out to you soon as I cain."
"I've hardly earned it." Does he means the food I promised him or the way I worked my healin' balm over his injured leg? Both, maybe.
"Well, now you owe me." Ma's medicine bag swings from my hip as I stand to leave. "And believe me, I intend to collect."
A/N: The adventure is officially underway! I hope you will continue to follow May as she navigates encroaching deserts, no-good scoundrels, dust storms, and a blue-eyed boy with unknown intentions.
A little note on this story's voice: May's narrative is written in dialect. I hope it helps you imagine how she talks, and for those of you who are at all confused, yes, all of the grammatical errors are intentional. This is May's voice: her speech is part of who she is. I hope you'll find that this element adds to the story rather than detracts from it.
Chapter 1 is dedicated to one of my Wattpad besties, @krisinechausti . Kris is one of the winners of Margaret Atwood's Future Library contest. Her entry, PRIME, is a haunting, futuristic tale of artificial intelligence, isolation, and the evolution. Definitely a must read!