JC grins. “Emasculate much?”
“Women keep score by quality,” Amye finishes.
“Your sister came back for seconds.”
Amye pounces on Scott, pummeling his head.
JC raises her hand. “Amye! Freeze!”
Amye being frozen stationary in time for seconds allows Scott to lower her to the ground.
“You had to bring up her sister. I should’ve let her castrate you,” JC scolds.
“Why don’t you wipe her mind or convince her Kymberlynn’s dead or turn off her drinking?”
“It’s illegal. It doesn’t work, not at least for long-term control. I don’t know what happened while you were on Tartarus, but next time I’m going to let her cut you.” JC snaps her fingers.
Amye slumps over, puke exploding from her nose. “Too much green liquid.”
JC offers, “Maybe you should eat. Help settle your stomach.”
Scott says nothing. He knows JC rewrote the last seconds of Amye’s life.
“Not everyone’s a cold-blooded killer, Scott,” JCs says.
“True, but the Tibbar take it personally as a species if they don’t die in battle. It’s more than their form of population control. Let’s hope no other Tibbar took a Merc consignment on Asym.”
Their energy weapons’ humming charges are followed by a voice behind them warning, “It’s not the Tibbar you should worry about.”
REYNARD JERKS THE reins. The horse halts its trot as he spins the mount around and clicks his tongue before quick pulls on the bit inform the Paint to back up.
“Impressive.” Aundrea’s curls bounce around her shoulders.
He draws his right index finger across the underbrim of his black felt hat, saluting her. “Mighty kind of you, ma’am.”
“You’re into selling this cowboy routine. I saw your history grade. We don’t have a curve because of you.”
“Knowing stuff about dead people isn’t hard. Searching for an imaginary X is where my grades fall apart.” Reynard jerks the reins and spins the horse around to prevent her from noticing his admiration. She’s caught him ogling before. She smiles at the attention. They’ve been friends since they discovered each other playing in the field between their farms. Despite being the girl next door, she’s blossomed into full womanhood their senior year.
“You’ve never shown horses for such impressive riding skills.”
“Not my thing. Competition doesn’t suit me. I do things for me, not for a blue ribbon. Besides, I don’t care what the song says. I might be a good ol’ country boy, but I don’t plan to be labeled as a dumb redneck my whole life. I detest loading cattle and getting crapped on in the chute, getting up at three in the morning when a cow gets loose on the road, having to go to the creek and chop holes in the ice in the middle of winter. Not my idea of fun. When you grow up on a farm, it’s all about the animals. No vacations, because who’s going to feed the pigs? Your college money went to fix the tractor,” Reynard rants.
Aundrea’s only response: “I see you are still fighting your parents on this college thing.”
“Well, you asked. My study time gets in the way of cutting hay. It’s not that they don’t want me to go, they just think I should get a full-time job so I have security in supporting myself.”
“I want to stay on my parent’s farm, but I am not sure what I want to do after I finish junior college. I can’t run the place by myself.”
“I thought you wanted to marry George?”
“Don’t be an ass, you know I dumped him.”
“Wasn’t a long fall for him.” Reynard snorts.
“His stature’s not in question.”
“He’s like an inch away from being a munchkin, but he creeps me out more like an Oompa Loompa.”
“Not nice,” Aundrea snaps at him. “I hope this isn’t your attempt to impress me, bro.”
Burn! Reynard cringes with no way to escape the brother zone. “Sorry, but what did you see in him anyway?”
“I’m not sure this’s the best way to start this date.”
“He’s just one of the few people I can’t get along with no matter how hard I try.” He catches what she just said. “Date? I thought you just wanted to ride horses.”
“Well, high school’s over, and in a few months George goes off to basic. In two years you’ll graduate with an AA and go off to a four-year university to finish college, and chances are we’ll never see each other again. I know I don’t want to see him anymore.”
Reynard brushes his open palm over his shirt to dry the gathering sweat. “It may be one of the last days we can ride.”
“I’ll ride in the snow, but I’ll need a heavier jacket if this air gets much crisper.”
Do it.
“I don’t think I’ve been in this field before,” Aundrea contemplates.
“Dad bought it from some city dude who though he wanted to have a cow herd. He built a barn and then discovered you actually had to check the cows every day. Dad’s going to run cattle on it in the spring, but I wanted to run the fence line before I close off the gate.”
“You just want to ride,” she says.
“It doesn’t take much to get me out here.”
“Will you stay after school? Graduation, I mean?”
Seconds ago she knew his plans were certain; now she asks hoping he’s changed his mind. “Spring Wells grows but maintains its one-horse-town mentality. I want out. I thought about the military if I can’t get to college.”
“Herculean efforts are needed to escape.”
“If I don’t leave for college. I feel more like this place is Hotel California.”
“You can check out, but you can never leave.”
“Exactly. What about you? Didn’t you get accepted into Southwest?” Reynard asks.
“Accepted, but no scholarship. I’m smart, just not smart enough. On paper my parents are loaded, but they live on a farm, too,” Aundrea says.
“College applications don’t take into account that cattle eat
