Future life

I steer down the dusty dirt lane to my ranch home. Cowboy, My Australian Cattle dog, pants in the seat of the pickup next to me. I bought this little farm with the money I had saved flippin’ burgers outside of campus. My laptop and my red ford ranger were the only remnants of Pennsylvania I had left. I pull up next to the Ranch style house, its only inhabitants Cowboy and I. It’s just one of the many things that seemed to have stuck to me on my trip from the mountain tops and valleys of Pennsylvania to the flat plains of Iowa, where the corn stretches for miles, only interrupted by the occasional lane leading to a farm. I opened the front door, no need to lock up I had nothing worth stealing, and besides, I lived a good twenty minutes from town. Cowboy rushed past me and dove into his water bowl in the kitchen. I could hear him slurping as I opened my laptop and settled down in the den. 1

E-mails, E-mails, E-mails. Jeez, I hadn’t had this much mail since I first left. E-mail from my sister, Delete. I don’t want to know how much more fun she’s having in high school than I did. E-mail from Jim at the John Deere dealership wants to know if I’m still interested in that forage harvester. E-mail from my mom, says dad is busy getting ready for bow season. E-mail from my best buddy in Pennsylvania, McGinnis, His masonry business is taking off and his wife is pregnant with their first. That made me feel bad, He’s only a few weeks older than I am. I’m twenty-one and still a bachelor, I leaned back from the Alienware laptop. Cowboy’s nails clack on the wood floor as he comes up and lies down beside my chair. My buddies here, mostly local farmers like I, are already married with children. Most are at least twenty years older than I. Once they figured out that I was here to work my own land, they were more than happy to welcome a new farmer into their close-knit community. “ Well Buddy, what say we rustle up some steaks?” I ask Cowboy, who watches me with wide brown eyes. He wags his tail with agreement. As I put the steaks in the pan, I wondered where I went wrong. I had a farm, Check teenage dream one off the list, “But where’s my farm wife and two boys?” I asked. Cowboy looked up at me. Well, if ya don’t like it, fix it! His eyes said. I lean over to scratch his ears. “It ain’t that simple, boy.” I say. Well, How’s it work then!?! His eyes ask. “It’s complicated, you’d understand if you stood on two legs rather than four.” He huffs, as if saying why ya gotta always pull that one out?! “Because it’s the only one I know I can win with.” I said, flipping the steaks. He makes a groaning sound and covers his snout with his paws. I drop a steak into his bowl, “Soups on, quit groaning and eat it.” I said, he trots over to his bowl and starts tearing at the steak. I start on mine. You’ll find a wife, I just know it. His eyes say. “It’s a little late for reassurances I’m afraid.” “Besides, I’ll never find somebody in my age range out here.” Who said anything about finding someone out here? Sometimes they’ll come to you. “Yeah right, maybe when hell freezes over.” I say, chewing on my steak. My laptop pinged, followed by a shotgun burst and then me saying, “Hey dumbass, you’ve got mail.” I get up from the table and walk the three paces into the living room, still chewing; I sit down behind the laptop and see what came in. “Holy shit!” My steak drops out of my mouth, barley missing the keyboard. E-mail from my past flame at high school, Jasmine Cole. She says she just finished a degree in art and wondered what I’ve been up to “Since we were kids in high school.” It took me about two hours to type an e-mail back, trying to give as much detail as she did, but trying to figure out what would bore her. Cowboy curled up in his bed and yawned loudly while I finished the last sentences. I sent the e-mail and crawled into bed. 2

This went on for several weeks, and then I finally got up the gumption to invite her out from Pennsylvania to Iowa to “See what is like and maybe get some inspiration” (She had a deadline closing in on her for a drawing.) She didn’t write back for two nail biters of days. When she did, she said yes, and that she’d catch a seven o’clock flight out of Harrisburg and land in Des Moines at twelve on Tuesday. It was Sunday when I got that e-mail and I was pumped. From where I was, Des Moines was about a two-hour drive. I’d have to take the pickup, no other choice. Cowboy, of course, had to come. I even got a piece of poster board and wrote her name on it in my scrawled handwriting so she could find me. I then spent hours after the farm looking for what I should wear. I figured whatever I wore to work that day would have to be good enough. I just barley had enough time to get a feeding in before I’d have to leave. 3

Cowboy stuck his head out of the passenger side window as I drove down the highway to the airport. “You know you have to stay in the truck right boy?” I said to him as I took the exit to the airport. He turned from the window and gave me his whipped dog face “Not my rules boy, Airport security.” Fine, But I’m still gonna wash her face. His eyes said. The stupid feeder broke down, after about a gallon of grease and much swearing on my part it groaned back to life. Pouring corn into the trough. I wiped my hands on a rag and threw a post-it note on my bulletin board to get a new gear for it. After booking it out the drive, I just barely had time to make it to the baggage claim as it started up. I looked around, No Jasmine as I remembered her. I held up my sign, hoping she’d see it. Don’t tell me I missed an e-mail or something. After about five minutes of shifting my weight from one dirty steel toe to another. I was thinking I just got played. Damn, I knew it was too fucking good to be true! I thought. Still, like a chicken with its head cut off, I continued to stand there with my sign. 4

“Hey! You!” Then she more or less jumps up and wraps her arms around me. “Yeah, good to see you too Jaz.” I said, shocked as I hug back. She pulls her head back from my shoulder to get a good look at my face. “Wow, you haven’t changed a bit.” She pokes at the muscle under my work shirt. “Well, maybe a little.” I laugh, “Working a farm by yourself does that, Sorry I couldn’t stay the exact same as when I was a junior.” I say. “You, on the other hand, have changed a lot. When’d you get contacts? I remember you with glasses, and” I said, looking over her as she got back onto earth. “Finally grew up a little.” It was true; she was a good head taller than when I saw her last. She laughs, “Yeah, I did. In collage.” “You’ve got your bag right? C’mon, let me introduce you to my buddy.” 5

We walk out through the revolving door to the parking lot. Cowboy can’t contain himself. He jumps out the window of the pickup and runs up to Jasmine. “Hey boy! Good to meet you!” She says, leaning down to pet him. Where he promptly licks her face. She laughs as I scold him. “Hey, take it easy Cowboy, she just got off a plane.” I say, grabbing his collar. “Really, he doesn’t usually do that. Normally, he’s very well behaved.” I say, holding his squirming bulk in my arms. “Well, shall we boldly go?” She asks. “We shall, as soon as I put this rascal in his place.” I say, leaning behind the seats to put him in the little space there. “Don’t blow this for me buddy.” I whisper to him. Don’t worry, I got this. His eyes tell me. 6

“I thought this would be a good spot.” I say, the next day, out in a field I refuse to plow. I’m burdened down with an easel, a suitcase full of paint and paintbrushes and a bucket of water. This field is a long walk from the house, but worth it. Red Indian paintbrush with its slender pedals intertwines with long Goldenrod and Forget-me-nots. Below the flowers are the light purple blossoms of Clover. Sweet grass and Volunteer wheat sprout up among other cold weather grasses, making the whole acre long field look spectacular, and it took her breath away. “It’s perfect,” she breathed “Better than I had even hoped for.” She whirls around. “I just need a live subject.” She says. “Why not that lazy bum over their.” I say, nodding at Cowboy who was laying low in the clover and taking a snooze. His white and blue speckled coat shined. His black nose twitched as he sub consciously smelled a rabbit. “Perfect.” 7

Everyday after morning milking, she’d wake up and I’d carry her stuff out to the field, Cowboy would strike poses for her, I think he liked her even more as she fed him treats for staying still. It took her a full week, and every time I’d carry the canvas out or back she’d tack a sheet over it saying I could only see it when it was done. On the last day, I made a special trip out, I found a tube of paint she’d forgotten. In the glade of trees before the field I stopped short. She was talking to Cowboy, “I really like him, and I wish he’d try and make a commitment, I got an e-mail from home the other day. They still wonder why I’m,” She made quotation marks with her brush. “Wasting my time with him. My parents never liked him you know.” She said, swinging her hair. “Well, I don’t care. If he offers, I’ll accept. I love this country, it really takes your breath away doesn’t it?” I stopped listening, I stopped caring, and I forgot all about the tube of paint I had come here to give her. I even forgot to breath for a moment. Wow! I can’t believe what I just heard! Then, like a thief in the night. I stole back into the woods. 8

“Can I look now?” I asked impatiently. I was sitting in the living room with my grease-covered hands over my eyes. Jasmine wanted to show me the finished painting. Not that I minded, It’s just my hands started to smell. “Alright, go ahead.” The first thing I notice is Cowboy. He’s sitting upright, watching a pale yellow butterfly on a bit of Indian paintbrush. Beyond him, I see volunteer wheat and sweet grass. At his paws I notice the purple of clover, she nailed it and I told her so. “Thanks, I really hope my client likes it.” I shrug my shoulders. “How can they not? You painted it didn’t you?” I say. She laughs. “Yeah, sure. So, I still have another week here. I finished a little early. So what do you want to do for a week?” Cowboy looks from his portrait to me, please tell me you planned for this, I need more treats! His eyes say. “Uhhhh….” 9

Actually, It turned out to be easier that I thought. She was very interested with everything at the farm, especially the animals. She even thoroughly domesticated several cows out of the herd so well that when they saw her coming they came up to have the curlicue between their eyes scratched. She fed them salt licks out of her hand, laughing as their rough tongues tickled her hand. The bull, my buddy, absolutely hated her though. I had no idea why; he was perfectly docile when it was just me but when she was alone or with me he went crazy. Eventually, after two days of work, she got him to stop bashing his horns against the gate whenever she came around. After four, he was just his jolly old self, as docile as a kitten and half as scary. She worked her magic on all the animals, especially me. 10

“Well, I guess this is good bye.” She said, standing outside of the gate at the airport. “Well, at least for a little bit.” I said, hugging her as the boarding call for her flight came in. “Keep in touch!” she yelled as she headed down the jet way. In moments the week was spent. I think she really wanted to stay, but she had to get back to Pennsylvania to see what the client thought. I stayed there by the gate; I watched the sleek jet liner pull away from the gate and watched it head to the runway and then leap in to the sky like a silver winged bird. I walked out back to the pickup. The local country station played Gary Allen’s Watchin’ Airplanes. Duly noted, thanks guys.11

“Cowboy! Come here and read what Jasmine wrote us!” I yell, finishing the e-mail quickly. “Her client didn’t like it.” Cowboy snorted angrily, as if saying. Huh, some people just can’t appreciate good art. “But listen buddy, Her agent told her to put it up for auction in D.C. He told her that it was her best yet, and he doesn’t want to see it sit in her closet. So guess what she invited both of us too?” He barks excitedly. “Yup, pack your leash and water bowl bud, we’re going to D.C.” 12

Jasmine’s Cowboy at rest was the last piece up on the auction block; Even though I had traded my jeans and work shirt for a suit I felt very self-conscious. Cowboy lay down next to me at the table. Jasmine stood nervously by her art as we waited for the second to last artist to finish his speech. Jasmine stood on a stage; Cowboy and I were in the crowd. Finally the windbag finished his speech and two stagehands brought out Cowboy at rest. 13

The people in the audience went crazy over it. Trying to buy this painting for as much as the mortgage on my farm. Finally, the bidding ended. For fifty thousand dollars the painting went. Jasmine, never in her wildest dreams would she think the painting would go for that much, stood up to the podium to make her speech. “Wow,” she said, “I can’t believe that,” The crowd laughed. “But, before I get carried away here, I have two important uhhh, species, to thank for this.” Apparently she had seen me and Cowboy come in. “ Carter? Cowboy? Are you guys out there?” She asked, scanning the crowd. I stood up, and Cowboy stood up in a lunging jump that took the leash right out of my hand. He barreled under tables and chairs before leaping up onto the stage, I had no choice, and I had to follow him. The crowd roared with laughter again. I breathed deeply as I went up the stairs, no turning back now. I knew Cowboy would pull some kind of stunt like this. “This,” She said into the microphone, Holding Cowboy’s collar, “Is my subject.” He whined and licked her hand. “And this man here was the one who invited me into his home and showed me a field I’ll never soon forget.” She said to me. “ Carter, Cowboy, I owe you guys big time.” The audience applauded again. Cowboy looked at me as if saying, Do it you pussy! “Fine.” I mouthed to him. “Uhhh, excuse me.” I said, moving up closer to Jasmine. “But ahh, I have something to say too.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out a velvety box, hiding it in the tails of my jacket. Jasmine had a very confused look on her face. She was all done up for the big night, Bright red dress that flowed down to her ankles and a simple pearl necklace. I got down on one knee, and then she understood. Her hands went up to her mouth to cover her gasp. “Jasmine Cole?” I asked. “Yes?” She breathed through her hands. I brought up the box and opened it, reveling an elegant diamond ring. “Will you marry me?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest. She was crying, she was so happy she could barely speak. “Yes!” She squeaked out, holding her hand out so I could put the ring on. The audience exploded in applause again as I slipped it on her ring finger and stood up to dip her with a kiss. Such was the stuff memories are made of. 14

“Okay, Open it!” She said, back at the farm a year later. I nervously eyed the wrapped painting in front of me. I carefully took the cloth of it and sat it on my lap. “Wow, Jaz. You shouldn’t have.” She had taken a picture of me on the old John Deere and then painted a much larger picture of me on it. “I know just where to put it too.” I moved to the mantle, on the opposite side of Cowboy at rest (The gentleman who bought it gave it to us as a wedding present, he wouldn’t take no for an answer.) “No wait!” She squeaked, “You haven’t looked at the back yet!” Just as I was about to hang it up. Obliging her, I turned it over. My heart skipped a beat. On the back, she glued a pregnancy test, it showed positive. “Really!?!” I asked over my shoulder. She nodded, smiling. “That’s great!” I yelled. Wrapping her in a giant hug, Cowboy jumped up trying to hug us too like he knew what it all meant. If someone had told me how this is how it would have turned out from that first e-mail I would have called them mistake. But this is my life, and I wouldn’t change it for the world. 15