Chapter 13
BURTON
Saturday comes way too early, and I’m not sure if I have the motivation to go to the service project. As Laney says, I’m probably at a two.
We’ve either gone on a walk or done an easy jog every day since Wednesday, and it’s the part of my day I look forward to the most. Yes, sometimes we add a few sprints onto the end, and I’ve realized that she let me win that first time we raced.
If I were getting up to walk or run with her right now, I’d be a solid eight or nine. Not a ten, because it’s still early, but I don’t have to work at the restaurant later, so that’s a plus.
But I know helping someone else out will be good for my inner self, so I push myself out of bed and get changed.
I grab a protein drink on the way out, hoping they have some kind of lunch planned for this service thing.
I might have to get some takeout after we get dropped off.
Most people don’t need the calories I do in a day.
The drive to the meeting spot is only about fifteen minutes away, which I’m grateful for. There aren’t many cars on the route there right now, and traffic is light.
I park by several other cars and look up to see a school bus pull into the parking lot. I’m not sure what I expected, but a school bus makes it feel like I’m ten years younger and still battling acne.
There’s a woman with a clipboard, and she’s checking off a line of people. To be honest, I didn’t expect this many men and women on an early Saturday morning.
“Name?” she asks when I get to the front of the line.
“Burton.”
She goes down her list and says, “Courtney Burton. Welcome aboard.”
I lean over and say, “It’s just Burton.”
Of course, Connie would make sure they have my first name on there.
“You’re good. Take a seat on the bus.”
I walk up the steps and down the aisle, feeling like I’m back in school and we’re taking a field trip. Those were never my favorite days because we always had to sit in pairs, and my knees always jammed into the back of the seats.
Now I’m at least five inches taller, so this might be interesting. As a distraction, I open my phone to the text messages and click on Laney’s name.
What are you up to today?
I probably shouldn’t send it now, but I’m curious what she’s doing. Probably sleeping, like a normal human.
There isn’t a response for a while, but that’s probably a good thing.
I sit on the bus, having taken the last seat at the back. At least there’s no one else in line.
Except when I turn to look, I see a few people running from the parking lot, getting in line to be checked in. They weren’t kidding when they said they didn’t have a ton of room.
There’s a teenage boy who walks toward me. My bench has the only seat open.
I stand up and point for him to take the window side, hoping to have the space to leave my legs out in the aisle.
He waves his hand in the same direction and says, “I get sick if I’m next to the window.”
I frown, trying to understand what he means.
He frowns back and says, “I forgot my carsick glasses, and if I sit close enough that the road is passing next to me, I’ll puke.”
Nodding, I sigh and slide in, doing my best to bend myself like a pretzel. Better to have bodily pain for a few minutes than to smell like throw up for the rest of the day.
This is how I felt when I was in the backseat of Jessa’s car, so maybe that was an excellent lesson in tight spaces.
The woman who crossed off our names stands at the front of the bus.
“Welcome, everyone. We’re excited to work on three different projects today.
I’ll let you know which group you’re in and which drop-off point you’ll be on.
If one group finishes early, we’ll have the bus bring them to one of the other spots to help and so on until we’re done. ”
Someone up front raises their hand and asks, “How long is the drive?”
“Forty-five minutes to an hour, depending on traffic.”
I take slow breaths, hoping to calm my mind so I’m not actively counting down each second. Can I sit like this for that long?
She goes through the list, and I’m named on the third drop-off. I put in my earbuds and lean my head against the window. It doesn’t help a ton, but enough that I can survive the trip.
Forty-five minutes was to the first drop off, which helps at least make room on the bus. I scoot by my seatmate and take a bench up closer to the front, turning so I can stretch my legs out completely on the bench.
Drop off two is another five minutes away, and the last stop is about ten more.
The woman gets up and directs us as she has the previous groups.
“Okay, helpers, today we’re going to be doing some spring cleaning for an older couple.”
I raise my eyebrows at the idea of spring cleaning. It makes me think of the crazy weekend my mom would set aside every few months to wipe down every visible surface.
“The older man asked for this to be a birthday present for his wife, which is today. We’ve got a list of tasks, and a dumpster will come in a few minutes to drop stuff into.”
A dumpster? Does that mean they’re hoarders?
She divvies out the assignments, and I’m tasked with using a chainsaw to trim the trees. At least I’ll be outside.
I spend the first couple of hours trimming, hoping to get more instructions on the ones that are completely dead. People get attached to interesting things, and I can’t put a tree back together once it’s been cut down.
A car comes down the dusty road and turns into the long driveway. I’m too far away to see the make and model, but maybe it’ll be the people who live here and can give a definitive answer on the trees.
Terry and Brenda have been helping carry away the branches I cut, putting them into the dumpster. It makes it nice that we don’t have large piles of branches sitting around. I can move the ladder without issue.
“I’m going to see what to do about these old trees,” I say, pointing to the two dead ones.
They nod and wipe their foreheads, sitting down on an already fallen log.
I’m tired too, and yet it’s only eleven o’clock, not even time for a lunch break yet. Between Connie and Laney, my body is getting in workouts it’s never seen before.
Okay, that’s not true. I’ve done plenty of yard work in my life. It’s just been a long time since I’ve done more than mow my next-door neighbor’s lawn.
The property is a lot bigger than I originally thought, and I’m out of breath once again by the time I get around the front to the driveway.
The car that’s parked causes me to freeze. I just worked on that car this past week.
What is Laney doing here?
She’s not in the car now, and I don’t see anyone in the garage, so I walk over to the front door and knock. I wait for several seconds before I ring the bell, hoping to figure out the connection.
There are plenty of pens for animals around back. Could this be her grandparents’ farm?
I chuckle at the thought before walking around the side of the house again. There are still plenty of limbs to trim. Maybe we’ll get an answer later.
I glance over at the animal pens, expecting to see people in the bright neon yellow vests we’re all wearing from the service company.
Instead, I see a familiar high, messy bun bouncing as she throws out what looks like chicken feed.
It takes some maneuvering, but I’m able to walk over without her seeing me. Is she able to handle being surprised? I feel like that’s an interesting attribute to know. There was the deer’s body in her apartment, but I wasn’t there when she initially found it.
“Hey! What—” I blurt out, but something hard hits me in the leg. I turn to find a goat using its head to butt my knee, making it hard to stay completely balanced. Glancing up, it’s too late to move when Laney turns around with her fist balled up and swings, knocking me square in the nose.
Blood streams down my face, and I lean over, letting it drain away from my clothing.
“Burton?” she says with a gasp.
I look up at her with a weak smile and say, “Yep, it’s me, Burton.”
“I’m so sorry. So, so sorry. Let me run in and get a rag for you. Actually, it would be better if you just came in so I can clean you up.”
She waves for me to follow, guiding me gently with her hand on my elbow.
“What are you doing here?” she asks.
One hand is below my nose so I don’t leave a trail of red spots along the older linoleum flooring, while the other gestures to the yellow vest.
“My sister signed me up for a service project. What are you doing here?” I’m pretty sure I already know the answer, but I don’t need to look like a stalker.
“This is my grandparents’ home. The little farm I grew up on? This is it,” she says, leaving me standing over the sink. She grabs a rag and gets it wet, squeezing out the excess water before lifting it to my nose. “Pinch the bridge there. Yeah, that’ll help slow it down a bit.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to use tissues or something? Paper towels? I don’t want to ruin your stuff.”
Laney grins at me and says, “My grandma doesn’t use paper towels or napkins. It’s all cloth here.”
I frown a bit and pull the rag away just enough to ask, “Toilet paper?”
She laughs and says, “Oh, yeah, well, they buy that.”
“That’s good to know. I was worried there for a minute.”
Laney smiles before taking the rag. She washes it out before putting it back up to my nose. I can feel it clotting, so it’s not gushing like before.
I reach up to take the rag from Laney, and our fingers touch for a few seconds. It’s like a sizzle of electricity from her to me.
Glancing around the room, I grin at the assortment of farm animal paraphernalia. “It looks like they’ve embraced the farm life here.”
“Wholeheartedly. Sorry about your nose,” she says, giving me a sincere look.
“It’s fine. It’s good to know you punch people when you get surprised.”
We both laugh at that. She grabs another cloth and gets it wet. “Let me get some of this blood off.” She wipes near my chin and the hand I’m not holding the other cloth with.
“How did you learn to hit?” I say, curious again.
“There was a community class when I was a teenager. My grandma was worried about me getting kidnapped because of all the times she’s heard about people on the news. So I learned some self-defense moves.”
She jumps back and forth on the balls of her feet with her fists raised as if ready to box.
“That’s a fun surprise.”
There’s movement behind the door close to us, and it opens with two white-haired people walking in. It sounds like they’re bickering.
“You didn’t have to shut the trunk. We have a lot more groceries to bring—”
The woman startles just like Laney, although she doesn’t throw a fist in my face, for which I’m grateful.
“What’s going on?” the older man says in a clipped tone. “Why aren’t you walking in—oh, Laney girl. We didn’t expect you today.”
“It’s Grammie’s birthday. Of course I was going to come.”
Grandma looks at me and says, “Who’s this?”
Laney laughs and says, “This is my neighbor, Burton. He’s helping the crew outside.”
The older woman looks at me in confusion. “Crew outside?” She sets her purse down on the counter and shuffles over to the window. “What are all those people doing out there?”
Laney shrugs.
I say, “We were told to come do some cleanup here for a service project.”
“What happened to you, kid?” the grandpa asks, poking me with his cane.
I wipe below my nose. “Well, I went to sneak up on Laney because I saw her here and—”
“She hit you,” Grandpa says with a wide grin on his face. “You were right, Marianne. Those defense classes paid off.”
“He’s not a criminal, Grandpa,” Laney says.
“Well, I guess that’s a good thing if he’s working at our house,” Grandpa says. “We may not look like we have valuables here, but we do. Stashed away, of course.”
“In a place even he can’t find,” Laney says, laughing.
Her grandpa looks at her with a frown before nodding his head. “That’s probably true.”
“Who got all these people to come out here, anyway?” Grandma asks.
The three of them stare at one another, and it makes me wonder what it must have been like growing up here. Being raised by quirky grandparents and living a life so different from mine.
Finally, Grandpa turns to me. “What’s the name of the place you’re working with?”
“I…honestly can’t remember,” I admit, glancing down at my vest and hoping for a logo that might jog my memory.
There isn’t one. Just several large drops of red.
“Oh,” Grandpa says thoughtfully, tapping his lips. “I think that was for me.”
“What do you mean?” Laney asks, staring at him with an intensity I haven’t seen before.
“Well, I signed up for a cleanup thing for your grandma,” he says. “Didn’t realize it would land on her actual birthday.”
“Maybe it just worked out that way,” I offer, trying to be helpful. “I should probably get back out there and help my group. We were wondering about the two dead trees out back. Do you want those taken down while we’re here?”
Grandma nods like she’s never wanted anything more, but Grandpa turns to stare out the window, his expression almost pained.
“I don’t know,” he says slowly. “I’m wondering if they’ll still be able to come around.”
“I think they’re pretty dead,” I say gently.
Laney winks at me, putting me off-balance for a moment.
“Grandpa, those trees haven’t grown leaves in five years.”
He lets out a long breath, his shoulders slumping as if agreeing takes everything he’s got. “Yeah…you’re probably right.”
“We could always plant new ones,” I say. “I’ll even do it for you.”
I’m not sure why I offer. Maybe it’s habit, or maybe it’s something about helping people that reminds me of Nora, my next-door neighbor.
She’s ninety-something, and her yard needs maintenance as well.
We haven’t gotten to the spring cleaning there yet, which I’ll need to schedule in the coming week with the rest of the roommates.
“I like that idea,” Grandpa says, suddenly brightening. “We could get some really nice trees.”
As if it had been his idea all along.
I bite back a laugh and glance down at the rag in my hand. It’s mostly red now, stained pink in places. I’m not entirely sure what to do with it. I’ve never had a bloody nose where someone handed me a reusable cloth.
“Here, I’ll take that,” Laney says. “And thank you for helping today.”
She gives me a warm smile.
“No problem. I’m just glad I know who lives here now.”
That probably sounds odd. Stalkerish, but I won’t be out here very often.
“It was nice to meet you both,” I say, waving.
There’s a lot to get done, so I might as well get back to it. And at least I’ve got something to think about while I cut down the trees. Laney and the goat, both full of spunk and making it hard for me not to smile.