Close Enough to Touch

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Then again…he wasn’t just a small-town country boy. He was a man who worked with his hands every day. His dimples were sweet, but his hands were scarred and strong. She snuck a look at the steering wheel, at the fingers wrapped around it.

Cole slowed the truck and took a right turn, distracting her from thoughts of his hands. This road cut through a field. She couldn’t tell if it was hay or wild grass or something else, but the wind rippled over the golden stalks, and it looked like an ocean. It was beautiful, and the shushing sound of it filled the truck.

Grace spotted something moving through the grass and choked on excitement. “Is that an elk?” she gasped, pointing.

“That’s a deer.”

“How can you tell the difference?”

Cole looked at her and a smile spread over his face. He chuckled. “They’re totally different animals.”

She slumped a little in her seat and crossed her arms. A strand of purple hair blew into her eyes and she shoved it out of the way. But there was no way to stay mad. Not right now. The world was too beautiful in that moment. She knew it would be crappy again soon enough. She couldn’t waste this, so she turned away from Cole and watched the strange view sliding by her window.

They passed more deer. Probably. How could she be sure when he wouldn’t tell her? Then the land got a little hillier. They were driving higher.

Deer jumped out of some bushes at the side of the road and raced away. But they looked a little…

“Holy shit, what are those things?” Grace yelled, grabbing Cole’s arm.

The brakes screeched for a moment. The truck jerked right and then left again. But Grace was too busy watching the freakish deer to care. They were the ones with the black masks again. The creepy black masks tattooed over their little deer faces.

“What the hell?” Cole snapped.

“Those things! What are they? They’re bouncing! And creepy!”

“Creepy?” He pulled to the side of the rode and shook his head. “Those are pronghorn. And I almost rolled the truck.”

“Pronghorn?” She craned her neck to watch warily as the herd headed away.

“Antelope.”

“Antelope? Like in Africa?”

“No, antelope, like ‘the deer and the antelope play.’ You know? The song about America? Maybe you’ve heard of it.”

“Oh.” The animals had finally bounced out of sight, so Grace gave up her vigil and looked at Cole. “Those are antelope? American antelope? Are you sure? Because they’ve got little masks and pointy black horns and they look like they should be grazing next to giraffes.”

He frowned. His mouth opened. Then closed again. He blinked several times. “You’re really damn weird, you know that?”

“Oh, I’m weird? Have you gotten a good look at those things?”

“Grace… You…” He couldn’t seem to get any words out after that.

She shrugged. “I’m going to do some research. I’m pretty sure those things aren’t native. They’re probably an invasive species.”

“What?”

“Like killer bees. We’ve got a big problem with those in L.A. now. Some genius brought them over from Africa.”

His eyes were wide as he stared at her.

“Africa,” she said, raising her eyebrows in exaggerated alarm. “A coincidence? Or a clue?”

His eyes narrowed. “How long have you been screwing with me?”

She grinned hard enough that her cheeks actually hurt. Apparently it had been a while since she’d used those muscles. “Not very long, I’m embarrassed to say.”

“So, you really didn’t know what they were?”

“Are you kidding me? Those things are not right. But I guess I have to believe you when you say they’re antelope. And I’m sorry I scared you.”

“Come on,” he huffed. “I wouldn’t say you scared me. You just startled me. Thought there was a buffalo on the road or something. Oh, sorry. Bison. I don’t want you worrying that someone’s accidentally introduced African water buffalo into the ecosystem.”

Grace laughed. She laughed so hard she had to press her hand to her mouth to try to stop it. That didn’t work. In fact, she laughed harder. Laughed until tears overflowed her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she gasped. “They just freaked me out.”

“I guess they might be a little odd-looking compared to mule deer.”

“You think?” She laughed even harder when he smiled. “God, stop making me laugh. Just drive.”

“I’m still a little shaky.”

She hit his arm and relaxed back into the seat. “So, where are we going? The mountains are the other way.”

“Don’t worry. There are plenty of mountains to go around. We’re taking a back road into the Gros Ventre River valley. There are campgrounds and trails here, but it’s not one of the main tourist stops.”

As they worked their way higher up the hill, the shrubs and grasses were occasionally interrupted by groves of aspen, their leaves pale green in the sunlight. The only sounds were the truck engine and the shushing of leaves in the breeze. She breathed in and sighed. “It’s amazing here. So quiet.”

“Yeah.”

“You wouldn’t believe how noisy the city can be.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been to a city before, you know.”

“Yeah?” she teased. “Like Boise?”

“Something like that.”

She smacked his arm again. “I’m kidding. But really. L.A. is just heat and cars and…hunger.”

“Hunger?”

She hadn’t meant actual hunger, but when he frowned, her cheeks burned, and she scrambled to cover the truth in her words. “Everyone is starving for something there. Fame or fortune or sex or beauty. Even when you have what you need, the next person is always showing you why it’s not enough. Everyone feels desperate.” And then there was the actual hunger. Plenty of that to go around, too.

She wasn’t sure why kids with nowhere to go gravitated to Southern California. Maybe it was because it rarely got cold, but she didn’t think it was that logical. Maybe it was as simple as following the line of other souls who thought they were too jaded to hope, but somehow found themselves wishing for more. Or maybe it just felt like a place where things were possible.

Unfortunately, things were possible in L.A. Anything was possible. From your wildest dreams to a darkness you could never have imagined for yourself. She’d seen it all. One old friend had ended up on the number-one sitcom in the country. Many others had ended up dead. Or worse. Maybe she should be thankful she’d found some middle path.