THE IMMORTAL
Chapter 6 – The Lesson
Jonah
stepped into the kitchen to help himself to a glass of cold milk. Sweat poured
from his face and dripped from his beard, and plastered his clothes to his skin.
It was a muggy spring, which meant it would be a blazing summer.
He threw several handfuls of water
onto his face and was drying off with a dishtowel when he heard voices coming
from the rear of the house. Going over to where the kitchen opened up to the
living room, he strained his ears to try and catch what was being said.
“—very
important that you not mention Mr. Cobb staying here with us. Do you
understand, Joey?”
“Not even
to let Corey know he’s been helping us on the farm?” the boy asked.
“Not even
to let your best friend know,” Clea firmly responded.
“Why? Is
Mr. Cobb wanted by the cops or something?”
If Jonah
didn’t know any better, he’d swear the child was excited about the prospect.
“No, Joey,”
Clea softly replied. “He’s not wanted by the cops. Mr. Cobb is not in trouble
with anyone.”
“Then why
can’t I—”
“When you
get older, you’ll understand. But if people get wind of the fact that I have a
strange man living here and working for us—”
“He lives
in the barn, Mom,” the kid dryly reminded her.
“I know
that, but everyone else doesn’t.”
“Then we’ll
tell them!”
“No. We. Won’t.”
Her tone was harder. “Joey, people will think Mr. Cobb and I are romantically
involved. They’ll think we’re living here in sin. They might ostracize us when
they see us in town. The kids at school might even cut you out of playing
sports with them.”
“What does
‘ostracize’ mean?”
“It means
they’ll exclude you. Have nothing to do with you. Or with me. They might even
try to prevent us from doing things we need to do.”
“Then why
is he here, Mom? If those people can do that to us, why do you let him stay
here?”
Jonah
straightened, every nerve alert as he waited for her answer. What she said
almost destroyed him.
“Because he
needs us…as much as we need him.”
In the
following silence, he heard some rustling coming from the boy’s bedroom. Not
wanting them to know he’d overheard their conversation, Jonah went over to the
back door, opened it, and slammed it closed with a loud bang. Striding up to
the cabinet, he withdrew a glass and made sure to shut the cabinet door with an
equally loud bang. He was pouring the milk when Clea entered the kitchen.
Seeing what he was doing, she refrained from saying anything and went directly
into the adjacent laundry room to place the clothes from the washer into the
dryer. At the same time, Joey made himself comfortable on the sofa in the
living room and turned on the TV to watch cartoons. Leaning back against the
countertop, he sipped his milk as he waited for Clea to reenter.
“I finished
the repairs on the fence around your garden, madam. By the way, the bugs are
beginning to infest the tomato plants.”
She gave a
weary sigh. “They always do.”
“Do you
have some baking soda?”
She paused,
momentarily distracted from whatever chore she’d been contemplating. “Yes. There’s
a box in the pantry. Why?”
Draining
his glass, he set it in the sink and wiped the milk moustache from his own with
the back of his sleeve. “I’ll dust the tomato plants with it. That will take
care of that problem.”
Her
beautiful gray eyes widened. “It will?” The next instant, her shoulders sagged.
“Of course, it will. You have the wisdom of decades to support you.”
Sensing
there was something seriously bothering her, he crossed his arms over his chest
and kept his voice low. “Madam, whatever is troubling you, please let me be of
assistance.”
Clea shook
her head. “I wish I could, but…” Stopping herself, she narrowed her eyes at
him. “Do you know how to drive a car?”
She had him
there. “No, madam. I don’t,” he admitted.
She waved a
dismissive hand. “Never mind.”
“But I’m
willing to learn…if you’re willing to teach me.”
He met her
intense gaze with one of his own. He knew that sooner or later he’d have to
become more acquainted with those motorized monstrosities. However, until now,
he’d managed just fine by paying for any transportation he needed, or from
using his own two feet.
“I’m
needing to run the fence line along the back pasture. Make sure there are no
breaks or fallen posts where my cows could get out when I move them out there
to graze. But I haven’t found the time to do it. Plus there’s getting to the
feed store to get them another block of salt, not to mention—”
“Clea,” he
gently interrupted. “I told you. If there’s anything you need done, never
hesitate to ask me.” He walked over to the back door. Opening it, he gestured
for her to exit first. “Come.”
“Now?”
“I need to
learn to drive. You need to check the fence. I do not know where this fence is
you speak of. There is no time like the present for me to learn both and get
that much out of the way.”
Clea caved.
“Okay. We’ll take the truck. Joey? Jonah and I are going to check out the back
pasture. We’ll be back shortly.”
“Okay,
Mom,” her distracted son replied, letting her know he’d heard her.
After first
holding the passenger side door open to let her get into the cab, Jonah went to
take his place behind the steering wheel. Right off the bat, the seat was too
far forward to where he couldn’t get his long legs situated underneath the
steering column.
“There’s a lever
on the left side of the seat,” she instructed. “Lift it to make the seat scoot
back.”
He fumbled
for said lever, unsure if it would be in the front, in the middle, or at the
rear, when she leaned over his lap and tried to reach it herself. Suddenly he
found it and pulled, and the seat jerked backwards. Caught off-balance, Clea
landed halfway across his lap.
For several
long seconds, they stared at each other, noses mere inches apart. He had always
been entranced by the cloudy, slate gray color of her eyes, but he’d never been
close enough to her until now to realize there was the tiniest green ring
surrounding her pupils. Like hidden emeralds were still embedded within their
rocky tombs.
Before he
was aware of it, his gaze dropped to her mouth. At the same time, she licked
her lips. The temptation to kiss them was…
Groaning
softly, Jonah sat up and stretched his legs out, now that he had enough room.
Clea resumed her seat—the moment broken, the chance missed, and more
importantly, a possible calamity averted. Still, he silently cursed himself.
Jonah,
old man, you’ve known for a while now, almost from the first instance after you
awoke in her son’s bed, that you were going to fall in love with her. Admit it.
You’ve put up a hell of a fight, even though you know it’s a losing battle.
“Jonah?”
Hearing his
name, he broke out of his temporary trance to find himself staring at the
steering wheel patiently waiting for his guidance. He tried to cover his lapse
by examining it.
“If I
recall, it requires a key that goes…”
“Here.”
Again, she leaned over the center console, key in hand, and slipped it into the
slot on the column. “It’s an old truck, not one of those newer models.”
“Madam, I
wouldn’t know an old truck from a model T. Frankly, I never paid attention to them
except to ask if they were willing to take on a passenger. Just show me how
this one works.”
She snorted
softly at his remark. He caught the faint whiff of coffee on her breath. As
much as he enjoyed the smell of fresh-perked coffee, the scent of it coming
from her was even more intoxicating.
“Now, turn
the key clockwise, away from you.”
He did so,
and the engine spluttered to life.
“Thank
goodness this is an automatic,” Clea remarked. “Now, take this lever behind the
wheel. It’s called the gear shift. See these letters on top of the column? Move
the lever until it’s over the D. That stands for ‘drive’.”
Jonah moved
the gear shift. The truck suddenly began lurching forward.
“Hit the
brake! Hit the brake!”
“What is a
brake?” he yelled back.
“On the
floor! In the middle!”
Slamming a
boot on the middle pedal by his feet, the vehicle stopped. Clea began laughing
hysterically as Jonah tried to catch his breath.
“What did I
do wrong, madam?”
“You did
nothing wrong. I failed to tell you to keep your foot on the brake until you’re
ready to press the accelerator,” she apologized.
“Press the
what?”
Collecting
herself, Clea cleared her throat and took several quick breaths to calm
herself. “Okay. Let’s start over. I seemed to have skipped over a few important
steps.”
Jonah
winced. “Do tell.”
She pointed
to the floorboard. “The middle pedal is the brake. The one to the right of it
is the accelerator. Got that so far?”
He studied
the two objects. “The horizontal pad is to stop, and the vertical pad makes it
go. Got it. Now what?”
“Now you
put your foot on the gas pedal. Excuse me, the accelerator. Slowly press down
on it to make the truck move forward.”
“And if I
wish to move this mechanical marvel backwards?”
“That’s
what the R in the window is for. It stands for ‘reverse’.”
“What are
all these other letters for? And what do all these dials mean? What do they
represent?” he questioned, indicating what he saw on the dashboard.
“We’ll
cover those later,” Clea promised. “For the moment, let’s concentrate on going
forward. Now, slowly press the gas pedal. Keep your eyes on the road and turn
the steering wheel in the direction you want to go. Preferably on the road,”
she added with an amused grin.
In all his
long years, Jonah had never considered himself to be the romantic type, nor the
impulsive type. But for some reason he couldn’t explain, much less restrain,
seeing that smile on her face was like seeing a beacon of hope.
No. Not a
beacon. A promise. Almost like a wish needing to be fulfilled. Only it wasn’t
as much her wish as it was his.
Reaching
out to her, he gently took her by the chin and leaned across the seat. She
didn’t pull away. Neither did she remain steadfast. To his shock, she also
tilted forward, nearly meeting him halfway.
Their lips
touched. Tentatively. Too briefly.
As
awareness cleared away the momentary fog that had enveloped his senses, Jonah
withdrew, dropping his hand from her face. He gripped the wheel, focusing his
eyes on the short gravel path in front of the truck, and tried to come up with
an appropriate apology.
He’d gone
too far, and he feared what her next step would be. Would she demand he leave
this place and her property immediately? Or would she give him the chance—
“If we’re
going to check out that fence line, we’d better get going,” she remarked in an
odd tone of voice.
His mind
was still in a muddle. Not trusting what he might say in return, he simply
nodded and gradually pressed the vertical pedal until the truck moved away from
the house.
TO BE CONTINUED
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