The sun had disappeared over the horizon leaving Kate and I in a hazy darkness. It was about 9 o’clock at night but the summer days in the small town of Genewa, New York were long and hot. The town was nestled at the very edge of New York state and all signs of the Big Apple had vanished at least a hundred miles east. The town itself was filled with only 3000 people and those 3000 people were spread out between large ranches and farms. If someone wanted to hide in plain sight, Genewa was the place for them.
Kate and I met when we were five, my parents moved from Pennsylvania on my mother’s dream to own a ranch, a dream which was never fulfilled. My father died when I was three and I don’t remember much about him, what I do remember, though, is how my mother practically died with him. We had a small cottage with a couple acres of land and my mother had hoped to upgrade to a sprawling ranch, but once my father died her dream faded into the background and we still live in the 3 bedroom, 1 bathroom cottage. My brother Joey and I had to do everything in the house from then on, or at least until last year when he went cliff diving with his friends on a dare that he should have refused. He didn’t jump far enough out and he ended up breaking his back on a rock. Luckily, he only felt pain for a few seconds because the break paralyze him from the waist down. He almost drowned that day and sometimes I hear him mutter that he wish he would’ve.
Kate’s dad, on the other hand, was a hardworking man who only had children to use as farm hands. He had four boys and when they tried again for another boy, Kate was born. Her mother committed suicide when Kate was two, all the screaming children along with her extreme bipolar disorder proved too much for her to handle. So, like my father, she is no more than a bedtime story with no real connection for Kate Her ranch sat back to back with my property and we didn’t exactly agree when we first met.
Our conversation had went a little like this:
“Hey you!” I called out the a girl dressed in an oversized plaid shirt that seemed to be swallowing her whole, “You’re on my yard.”
“No, I’m not. This land belongs to my pa,” She said as she stomped her foot on the ground and crossed her arms, “Who are you anyways? I haven’t seen you around.”
“I’m Madilyn, I just moved here. And this yard belongs to my mom.” I mimicked her stance.
“Well, I’m Kate and I think we should just share the yard.” She raised an eyebrow waiting for my response.
“That doesn’t sound like a horrible idea.” I wavered.
“Good, we can be friends then, ‘cause anyone who plays on the same yard are friends.” She reasoned as she cracked a smile.
I agreed with the very logical reasoning of five year old Kate and we began playing together as if we had known each other forever. Twelve years later, and our friendship that had begun with an argument was still going strong.
The last haze of sunlight was gone now and the moon had begun it’s ascent to the sky and I could feel the temperature dropping as I laid. Kate and I liked to go out to the edge of the ranch on a cool summer night, where the unmowed and untamed grass was soft and thick. We would lay under the shade of the giant oak and pine trees and watch the tree tops sway with the wind. We would sleep here on the clear nights, just to get away from anything and everything.
Tonight, I wanted to get away from my mother and her constant ridicule of me. After the accident she was devastated, as any mother would be but she never recovered. She feels like she lost her star child, she thinks of me of as a worthless being who, as she put it ‘Takes up space, time, and money.’
Kate wanted to get away from her father’s harsh rule. He is hardworking on the farm during the day, but once the work is finished he replaces the farm tools with a bottle of whiskey. Her four brothers get the worst of him though. Jeremy, Ron, Arthur, and Christopher have all been beaten with belts, bottles, and bats. They protect their sister from that abuse, but the abuse behind her bedroom door is something they can’t control. The first time he did it to her was when she was 13. The boys were out of town for Ron’s birthday party and her father had gotten particularly drunk that evening. He barged into her room and forced himself upon the crying, helpless Kate. She hasn’t and won’t ever forgive him.
As we laid in the long grass I could hear the almost synchronized song of the tree frogs and crickets ring out through the thick summer air. I could feel the air getting heavier with humidity and I knew that we’d have to deal with our families the next night, it was going to storm. I think Kate caught onto this as well because I heard her whisper,
“Please don’t rain.”
The next morning the familiar sound of crickets and frogs was replaced by the melody of the birds. It was just barely daybreak and the colors of dawn were just starting to peek through. A scattering of wispy clouds had collected during the night and rested high up in the atmosphere. It was going to storm tonight for sure. I sat watching the sunrise. The first beam of light shot out from the sun as it rose just over the horizon and enlightened the sky as it rose further a deep red with a mix of pink and orange painted through the sky. It was beautiful.
“Kate!” I whisper shouted and gently shoved her.
“Whattt?” She replied groggily.
“Look at the sky.” I replied shoving her with more force this time.
“The sun rises everyday, I know what it looks like.” She said with her eyes still closed.
“You’re missing out.” I knew this would get to her, stubborn as she may be, giving up on her is the fastest way to make her do what you want her to do. She opened one eye and then the other and lifted herself up, leaning back on her arms.
“It is very beautiful.” She sighed.
"We should get back before your dad wakes up." I said and turned to her.
Her face contorted into a grimace and she closed her eyes for a few seconds before opening them and standing up.
"You're right. Walk me back." She said it as more of a statement than a request.
We took our sweet time walking back, making sure to zig zag as much as we could. She didn't want to go back to that house and I didn't want her to go back either, but we both knew that if she wasn't back by 8am then her father would not hesitate to punish her.
We had finally made it to the steps of her ranch and she hesitated at the doorway. I hugged her breifly and told her it would be alright, if she just stayed away from him, it'd be alright. She nodded and kept her face stony. She was never one to cry.
