In Her Eyes (9 page)

Above all, though, the freshman thing stuck in her mind more than anything else. She didn’t really know any twenty-four year old freshman. “Why didn’t you go to college right after high school?” Casey asked. She looked over at Ben as he turned off I-75 and onto State Road 40. It was the first question in the past thirty minutes he hadn’t immediately responded to.

“I just had some family stuff come up,” Ben said. “And I had this offer to be the mechanic for several of the ranchers out here. I was kind of naturally good at fixing things, and it paid well. So I just kind of hung around for a bit.”

It felt like he was hiding something, she thought. But twenty minutes into their first date didn’t feel like a good time to start prying. “What made you change your mind about college?”

“Actually Coach Melvick recruited me out of high school. I had originally committed, and when I had to pass, he told me to call him if I ever changed my mind. And that was a little over a year ago now.”

“But everything is okay now, with your family?”

“It’s…getting there,” he said.

She wanted to ask him more about his family, but since she wasn’t being entirely upfront about her current family situation she couldn’t really blame him for not wanting to talk too much about his.

As they kept talking, Casey noticed things about him. A small portion of his bottom lip was slightly discolored, likely from running in the sun too much. His hair was jet black and a lot longer than that of the other runners. Lastly his eyes were a halcyon marine blue with hint of light green. Almost aquamarine, she thought. And while many people say the eyes are the window to the soul, Casey knew they were also the window to one’s genes. Which is why she couldn’t help but think how similar they looked to Emma’s.

Then Casey noticed something else. On his left wrist he wore what looked like a girl’s faded purple hair band.

Casey pointed towards it. “What’s that?”

Ben looked out his window as they passed several cows grazing in the pasture. “Those are cows,” he said with a smile.

Casey shook her head sarcastically. “Thank you, but I know what cows are.”

Ben lifted his left hand off the steering wheel and held it up for a second. “Hey, I was just trying to be helpful.”

“I meant, what is that band on your wrist?”

Ben looked down at his wrist and then back up at the road, letting out a deep breath. “Oh, that. That’s my magical bracelet.” Ben didn’t elaborate as if no further explanation was needed. He looked over at Casey, who was staring directly at him.

“Are you really going to make me ask what a magical bracelet is?”

Ben laughed. “Nope.”

“Fine, I don’t want to know about your fake magical bracelet anyways,” Casey said playfully. But the truth is she did want to know.

There was a momentary silence in their conversation and Casey leaned her arm alongside the window. She knew they were somewhere in Ocala, but still had no clue where they were going this early in the morning. Casey watched as they drove past endless lines of brown and white three-board fencing and what she guessed was crops of either peas or beans, or maybe both. She could just barely see Ben’s reflection in her window, and he kept looking over at her as she continued to look out the window.

“Why did you ask me out?” she said.

“That feels like a trick question.”

“It’s not. I just…was curious, I guess.”

The bumpy dirt road ended and Ben parked the truck behind a scratched-up two-board fence. He turned and looked directly at Casey. “Why did you come to my practice?”

“I felt bad,” Casey said.

“Nope.”

“What do you mean, ‘Nope’?”

“I mean that’s incorrect.”

“I’m telling you that’s why I went there.”

“I’m telling you you’re wrong. But if you’d like to know the real reason, I’ll be glad to tell you that too.”

Casey rolled her eyes. “Sure, enlighten me.”

“Because you knew it would be worth it,” Ben said. He let his answer sink in for a minute. “And that’s the same reason I asked you out.”

“Do those lines actually work on girls?” Casey joked.

Ben smiled. “The wrong person says all the wrong things, the right person says all the right things.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means it’s not about what someone says, it’s about the person saying them.” Ben turned off the truck and pulled the latch to open his door. “By the way, we’re here.”

He was already around to her side before she could pull open the door. He closed it behind her and she walked towards the fence. She placed her hands on the top board and looked out at the seemingly endless horizon of land. Two horses looked up from feeding on some hay and started trotting along the fence line towards her.

Ben grabbed something out of the backseat and walked up next to her.

The horses were only several yards from them. “That is Peanut and Butter,” Ben said.

Casey laughed at the names. “That can’t be their real names.”

Ben pointed at them. “That brown one there, with the white blaze between his eyes, is Peanut. And the one next to him, the white Arabian, is butter; she’s my favorite.”

Ben unzipped the plastic bag in his hands and held out several apple slices.

“We can feed them?”

“
You
most surely can,” a voice said from their left. A man that Casey hadn’t even noticed was walking along the fence. His right hand was gloved and carrying a hammer, and his left hand was bare and empty. “This other fellow, though, he looks a little rough around the edges. I don’t know if I want him around my horses.”

Casey looked over at Ben, and he winked at her.

“We don’t need no trouble now, old man.”

“Old man?” the man said. “Boy I will whoop your ass up and down this green grass.” The horses moved away from the fence as the man approached, and went back to grazing near another bale of green and yellow hay.

The man stopped right in front of Ben and they just stood there staring at one another.

“Sir,” Casey said, “we’re sorry, we were just…”

“No need for you to apologize, miss,” the man interrupted. “It’s this one here who has some explainin’ to do.”

A big grin spread across Ben’s face and he burst into laughter.

“Boy, I will…” the man started to say, but then he began laughing as well. 

Both of them hugged one another and walked back over to the fence.

“Wait, you know each other?” Casey said.

“Well, I should hope so,” the man said. “I raised the little bastard. Which means it would be nice if he would stop by more than once a month.

“This is—” Ben started.

The man reached out his hand toward Casey. He was older, maybe in his sixties, dressed in jeans and a long sleeve plaid shirt, both of which hugged his lean frame. “I’m Jim.”

Casey shook his hand. It was tan and weathered with a hard callous along his thumb and index finger. “I’m Casey,” she said.

Jim turned towards Ben. “
The
Casey?”

Casey looked back to Ben.
You told him about me?

Ben ignored the question.

“Alright, well, you two enjoy yourselves. I got several hundred more posts to walk, and if you stop by the house, you might just find Diane making one of her famous fruit pies.”

“Nice to meet you,” Casey said.

“Miss,” Jim said touching the brim of his hat as he continued along the fence line, glancing at each post as he passed.

When Jim was out of earshot, Casey looked over at Ben, who was holding out his hand.

“You coming?”

Casey climbed over the fence carefully and hopped down onto the damp ground as Ben’s hands wrapped faintly around her waist. She turned around and he pulled his hands away. “So are you going to actually tell me where exactly we are now?”

Ben turned back around towards endless green pasture. “This is where I grew up.”

25

Track

April 10, 2015

Casey followed Ben as they walked across the pasture towards Peanut and Butter. The horses continued to graze until they were about ten feet away.

Ben knelt down and Casey followed suit. Peanut was still grazing, but Butter stopped and looked right at them. “You see how her ears are sticking straight up and slightly angled towards us?”

“Yeah,” Casey said.

“And you see how his are more relaxed?”

Casey looked over at Peanut and his ears twitched several times and then rested to the side, almost like the wings of an airplane. “Yeah,” she said.

“It’s a signal that the horses are relaxed.”

“What if they weren’t relaxed?” Casey asked.

“Their ears would be pinned flat against their heads.”

“And that means they’re scared?”

“Scared, or spooked, or just uncomfortable with something around them. You typically don’t want to approach a horse like that.”

“So, Peanut and Butter have happy horse ears?” Casey said with a smile.

Ben laughed. “Actually, yeah, I think that’s a good way to put it. Have you ever been around horses?”

Casey shook her head.

“Okay, when we approach, you’re going to hold your hand out like this.” Ben put his hand out in front of him palm up. “If he smells or touches your hand with his muzzle, then you can try giving him a piece of apple and petting him. Sound good?

Casey nodded and followed Ben towards Butter.

“Hey, girl,” Ben said. Butter sighed, breathing in deeply and letting it out audibly through her nostrils. “I’m happy to see you too, girl.”

Ben held his hand out like he had shown Casey, and Butter pressed her muzzle against him. He moved his right hand under her chin as his left hand moved up her cheek and to her neck. He looked back at Casey and tilted his head, motioning her closer.

“I have a friend I want you to meet,” he said to Butter. “And she’s got some treats for you.”

“Hold your hand out,” he said to Casey. Ben put two apple slices in her palm and Butter took two steps toward her. Casey could feel the hot air exhale from Butter’s nostrils, and then she scooped the two apple slices in with her lips.

Butter sighed again, and Peanut walked over. “You like that, huh?” Casey said.

Ben handed her a couple more apple slices and she fed Peanut too. She stepped forward slightly and ran her hand over his crest and down his neck. “Do they like to be pet?”

“Of course,” Ben said. “You just have to find the right spot and put a little muscle behind it. They have thick skin, and getting pet gently sometimes tickles them more than anything.”

Casey rubbed her hand firmly down Peanut’s neck. It was smooth, but she could also feel subtle striations in his skin. It reminded her of the muscle tissue around the heart, smooth with barely noticeable striations.

Ben fed Butter the last of the apples and held up his hands. “I’m sorry girl, that’s all we got.” He looked over at Casey. “Now this is the hard part.”

“What is?”

“Leaving them.”

Casey puffed out her bottom lip into a sad face and gave Peanut one last long stroke down his mane. “Mr. Ben says I have to leave you now. I would stay with you all day, but he says I can’t.”

They both walked away slowly, farther into the property.

Casey looked back after a couple minutes. “They’re still following us.”

Ben smiled. “They want more apples.” For several more minutes, Casey watched the horses as they walked. Behind them it looked like part of the pasture had been mowed recently because there were long lines of fresh grass shavings. Ahead of them on the right was a cute little red house with white trim. Casey pictured a plump old lady named Diane baking some homemade pie. Possibly even sitting it out on the window sill like they did in movies, the aroma rising like a small smoke stack. They were walking farther away from the house, in the other direction though, towards a large field of corn.

“So, I can’t believe you told your dad about me? I must be like super special.” Casey joked.

“You mean Uncle Jim?”

“He’s your uncle?”

“It’s kind of a long story.”

“I like long stories,” Casey said. She saw a little hesitation in Ben.

“Jim and Diane were my foster parents. Technically they adopted me when I was 13, and I have just always called them Uncle Jim and Aunt Diane. Actually I guess it’s not that long of a story.”

“Can I ask what happened to your biological parents?”

“You can, but I can’t tell you. I mean, I would, but I just don’t know.”

“What do you mean?”

“I grew up in foster care until I was around twelve, Jim and Diane adopted me about a year later, and other than that no one could ever tell me anything about my parents.”

Casey wanted to ask him more about his parents, and about his time growing up here, but she was distracted by tall rows of corn they were fast approaching. “I thought you told Uncle Jim you were taking me to some track?”

A few steps later and the grass ended. They were getting closer to the corn and walking over a dry and dusty soil. Ben stopped nearly ten feet shy of what looked like endless rows of corn. To his left there was an opening about five feet wide. “Welcome to my track,” he said.

Casey stopped next to Ben and a small cloud of dust kicked up around her boots.

Ben held out his hand, “Shall we?”

Casey took it and they stepped in between the rows of corn. His hand slid over hers and gently clasped towards the tips of her fingers.

After several steps Ben guided her to the right down another path, and then back to the left. The low angle of the morning sun fell behind the tall stalks of corn as they continued to walk through the dim lit pathways.

Casey looked around as a swift breeze rushed through the corn, tipping the stalks like a pendulum. “What is this place?”

“Jim and Diane moved out here to retire just a couple years before they first took me in. It was mostly just run down farmland then. By the time I came along Jim had started messing around with several different crops, mostly sweet corn and pumpkins.”

Ben stopped and knelt down towards the bottom of several corn stalks. He picked up a small orange pumpkin, about the size of a baseball. “The corn will be ready several months before the pumpkins, but they can grow together,” he said, holding it up.