Odette: Choose your own adventure!

First: This is a choose your own adventure story!

It is not one story with three chapters, it is three different stories with the same beginning and you get to choose which ending you want! It was super fun to write and I hope y'all like it.

Second: This is not a fan-fic, but it is sort of close. It sort of exists parallel to the show 'Outsiders'. (Not 'The Outsiders' movie, but the show about the mountain people) I know it's not a super popular show, but I loved it and it immediately struck a chord in me and I wanted to write a story in the same world. If you have seen it, you will recognize some of the people, even if the names are different and it isn't 100% in line with the show. It's just a premise and not an exact fan-fic. :)

I stepped off the bus and looked around, hitching my single bag back onto my shoulder. It was cold here, colder than I was expecting for so early in the fall. Back home... no. This was home now. Back where I had lived before, it was still hot. My t-shirt wasn't going to cut it. I tried to remember if I'd grabbed a long sleeve shirt or a flannel, but couldn't. I would have to dig through my bag to see. It had all been so rushed and frantic. Everything had happened so quickly, I was still in shock and hadn't come to grips with anything yet.

Gemma was gone.

"You Springmeyer?" a man asked, making me jump and turn around while also trying to back away from the voice. It ended with me on my ass in the parking lot. The older man looked at me dubiously, then looked around the lot again. "I was told to pick up Ms Springmeyer? You her? You don't look like they said, but I don't see no one else?" he said, offering his hand to help me up.

"I'm her," I answered tersely, picking myself up off the ground. "Who are you? I was told my Auntie would be waiting for me?"

"Mrs Evanwood is homebound, she called me to get you."

"Who are you?"

"Just your Uber, kid."

"I'm not a kid. They have Uber out here? That's... surprising."

"I'm the one and only. You coming or not? Mrs Evanwood was clear on her instructions not to take too long, she aint got much money to spend."

"I'll cover it. How far out is she?"

"Far out?"

"In the country."

"She's in town, only just, but she is in town. Are you coming or not?"

"How do I know you are who you say you are?"

"Look, kid, I have someone to pick up as soon as I drop you off. I knew your goddamn name, didn't I? And your aunt's name?"

"I told you I am not a kid!"

"She said you was still in school."

"I am, but I am eighteen. Not a kid."

"My eight year old grandson is bigger'n you. You comin or not?"

I sighed, then motioned the man to the row of cars. I didn't know which one was his, but I didn't really care. Why hadn't anyone told me my aunt was homebound? This wouldn't be much different than staying with Gemma.

He opened the back door to an older PT Cruiser and I climbed in, clutching my bag. "Is it always so cold so soon here?" I asked when he got in the front.

"Hell, kid, this aint cold. Where you from that this is cold?"

"Atlanta. It feels cold to me. What's it like living right up against the mountains like this?"

"Ignore the mountains, kid. Ain't no good ever gone up or come down those mountains."

"I wasn't planning a hike, I was just asking. I'd never seen mountains till the bus ride. I was thinking about it on the way here when I saw them, the days must be short here, right?"

"Same 24 hours they have in Atlanta," he grunted.

"No, I mean the sun. This town can't get much sun."

"We get what we need. No one knew Mrs Evanwood had kin."

"You know her?"

"Used to go to church with her when she still went. We came up together, though she was a bit older. She was in school with my oldest brother, Dewey. Gone these last six years now. Stroke did for him. She never mentioned any kin anywhere."

"She's a half sister to my Gemma. Umm. Lois Mills. I called her Gemma, like Gramma, but I couldn't say it right when I was little. It stuck."

"No folks?"

"I do, I guess, somewhere."

"Aint that the way anymore? Here's the park where she lives. Look for 618."

"A trailer park?" I asked incredulously. I had never seen one in real life, just on TV.

"Yeah. She used to have a piece off down the road, but had to move it in here when she couldn't get around much anymore. There. That one there, the brown and tan one."

I stared dismally at the tiny old trailer. Where would I possibly sleep?!? I handed the man my card and he ran it, then I doubled it for a tip.

"Hey, thanks kid!" he said excitedly.

I nodded, a little confused. It was still less than a $10 charge. "You have a card or number if I need to go somewhere?" I asked, holding onto the door for a moment.

"You have the app? I am the only one local."

"Got it, thanks."

I went to the door as he drove off and knocked.

Silence.

I knocked again, feeling stressed.

Silence.

"You the Springmeyer kid?" a woman yelled from the kitchen window of the trailer next door. It was so close I could see her features when I turned to look at her.

"Yeah?"

"She thought you'd be older."

"I'm eighteen."

"Oh. Well you aint much of nothing, are ya? You don't get that from her side, no sirree. Where you come up from, girl?"

"My name is Odette. Det to my friends. I am from Atlanta. Is she home?"

"Yeah, but she's havin' her nap right now. Why don't you step over, I am making her dinner like I do most days. I'm Marjorie, my friends call me Marge."

Marge was a huge woman. Large enough that I wondered how she got in and out of her door and how she managed to stay on her feet at the stove so long as she cooked. She towered over me and her size was intimidating as hell. Her trailer was clean though, and it smelled like food. I couldn't say what kind, there was a mix, like she never stopped cooking. From the dishes piled up, she did a lot of cooking. She went back and forth between washing dishes and minding what she was cooking as she talked and I stared, wide eyed. What was she going to do with all of that food?!?

My question was answered in short order when two men came in and put their feet up to the table. Marge introduced me, but they dismissed me almost immediately as they talked about their shift at the mine and 'Mr Dupree', who seemed to be a supervisor. Before they left, another joined them and then another just as they were leaving. As I sat there waiting, a good dozen men came in to eat, smiling and talking happily and telling Marge how great the food was.

Finally, my curiosity made me speak up. "Is this like a restaurant or something?" I asked during a lull in the conversation.

One of the men laughed and Marge gave me a smile. "No, Det, I just like to cook. So the boys bring me groceries and I cook, then they come and eat. All of'm what live here and some what don't. All of'm single, mind you. Though, Mr Anderson will come some days. His wife aint much of a cook and she has the fits."

"The fits?"

"You know. That depression the schooled folk call it. She wont get out of bed and she cries over her lost babes. He's a good man to stay with her and take care of her."

I blinked. Was she serious? "She lost babies... and she has depression... and he is a good man for not leaving her?" I asked, but she didn't hear the dangerous tone in my voice. One of the men did.

"Where's this kid from, Marge? Aint seen her around here, she one of the miners brats?"

"Brat?!?" I demanded, sitting up.

"Phaw, now, Joel. You hushit up. Det, all the miners kids are called brats. All of em. She aint a brat, Joel, she's the girl what was coming for Mrs Evanwood."

"Well this is just a kid! They said the girl coming was old enough to take care of herself and Mrs Evanwood too!"

"I'm eighteen!" I yelled, standing.

He blinked at me and the man sitting with him looked at me dubiously. Joel reassessed the standing me and half nodded. "I guess I can see it. Short thing though, aint ya? Cute too. You have a man?"

I growled. "You don't..."

"Just hold on now," the other man said quietly. "You may be eighteen, fact remains though, she caint be takin care of Mrs Evanwood. Look'it her. She caint lift her or turn her or do all that needs doin. We'll still have to be takin' shifts. Someone needs to let Larry know, it's his night."

"Well, you'll be seeing him soon as any of us," Marge said decisively. "You let him know."

"Yes Marge," the man answered quietly.

"What's wrong with her?" I asked. "Is she up yet?"

Marge looked at the clock on her microwave, then huffed. "Y'all got me talkin so much, I am late on starting dinner for second shift!"

She was spry for her size, moving quickly as she pulled things out and began chopping and cutting.

Joel leaned closed to me. "She should be awake around four or so. Give her about half an hour. She takes a nap from around noon to four every day, then she is up till about eight. Gets up around eight too."

"What's wrong with her?" I asked the young man, but trying to sound professional so that he would quit giving me that flirty smile.

"She's old," he shrugged. "She don't walk on her own anymore, she aint got the use of her legs no more, or her right hand. Palsy of some kind, weren't a stroke. She shakes. I'll be in in the morning, we all have our shifts. I bring her breakfast Wednesdays and dinner on Sundays."

"You all just take care of her?"

"Well, we take turns so it aint a burden on one. She had one'a them county nurses for a week or so, but that bitch wasn't doin nothin' but hurtin' the ole lady. Makin' her watch TV she didn't like, makin' her eat food she couldn't eat. Eatin' up her food, usin' up her stuff. Mabel said the woman musta ate toilet paper the way she went through it. Always left her toilet all clogged up too. Ever single day, and she was only there for three hours. She didn't do nothin. Didn't change her bedpan or clear out her..."

"Joel, you mind what you say at my dinner table! No potty talk while folks are eatin!" Marge scolded. "He's right though. That woman was a terror. Used up all Mabel's good medicanals for herself. Said she didn't but I saw her smokin it from this window right here! You two are gonna be late if you don't run along now. Joel, I see you makin eyes, boy. The girl aint even been here two hours and you are on her like mud on a hog."

Joel grinned as he stood up, the quiet man standing with him. "You gonna be here tomorrow?" Joel asked me.

I opened my mouth to tell him no, but Marge spoke first. "She'll be at school this time tomorrow. That's right. She's still in highschool even if she is eighteen. Don't you cringe at me boy! You'll be eatin from a can if you give me those muley manners!"

"Sorry Marjorie," Joel apologized.

After that, I stayed quiet as the new round of men came in. They were all dirty and quiet mostly. Thanking Marge politely, eyeing me curiously but not speaking to me. I watched the clock and when four hit, I stood up. Marge turned to me and handed me a covered plate. "That's for Mrs Evanwood. You get hungry, just step over any time. Doors always open. If I aint cookin something, then I am sleepin', but that just means grab a plate from the fridge."

"Thank you Marge... you are an exceptional woman."

"What's that mean?" she asked flatly, as if I hadn't just paid her a compliment.

"It means I think you are amazing, what you do for all these men. My Auntie. You are exceptional."

"Oh," she blushed with a pleased smile. "Well thank you girl. Give Mabel my love and if she needs anything, there is almost always one of the boys here."

I started to knock again, but Marge called out, "Just go in, she cain't hear you knock! Or answer the door if she did!"

I nodded, then went in. The first thing that assaulted me was the smell. I cringed back and my hand flew to cover my nose. My eyes watered as I tried to look around the dark room. Cats. At least four that I could see were darting around. I blinked away my tears and tried to breathe through my mouth. I saw her then, in the living room. There was a daybed instead of a couch and a TV for furniture. Next to the daybed was one of those portable toilets.

Mabel wasn't as large as Marge, but she wasn't far behind her at all. She had long, lank, greasy white hair that had yellowed and matted in the back. I was trembling as I circled around to bring her the plate.

Her eyes darted off the TV to me and she looked me over. She looked like a severe woman, the kind who hated sound or anything that interrupted her at all. Nothing like Gemma. Gemma's face had been pure joy, this woman looked like nothing could please her. Her mouth was in a permanent purse as if she were dissatisfied and her eyes had a sneering set to them like she could see your soul and she was judging you.

I was shaking like a leaf as I extended the plate to her. She took it with her good hand.

"Smolla'n they's sayin."

"Umm... I'm short. Petite. Like my mom. I'm eighteen."

"Bedroom inna back. Had Len clean it out. Go on."

She dismissed me, turning back to the TV as she peeled back the top of her covered plate. I hurried down the short hall to the only bedroom. It was a small room and there was a half built bunk bed on the wall. From the picture, it was the kind with a bed up high and a desk under it. It was less than half done though and I glanced at the mattress leaning on the wall, blocking the small closet. The bedroom didn't smell as bad as the front, the cats hadn't been let back here. Still, I opened both windows to let it air out, then tried to make head or tails of the instructions and parts laying out for the bed. I also wondered about the bed and what bedding I was supposed to use.

I slipped back out, pulling the door firmly shut and blocking a grey striped cat from darting in. The bathroom was clean, pristine even. Like no one used it. There was a washer and dryer next to my room, between my room and the bathroom with cupboards above it. They were full of her clothes, it seemed, no bed clothes. I went back down the hall and Mabel was eating and staring at Wheel of Fortune.

"All's well that ends well," she spouted out excitedly. I looked at the screen and that was definitely not the answer to the puzzle. I considered asking her, but she didn't seem to notice I was there. I glanced at the white plastic cube next to her bed with 3 drawers in it and it held more of her clothes with an array of pills and half empty bottles of water on the top. I went to the kitchen. The cupboards were all bare and empty, the fridge only had condiments and a few plates that were half full of food from Marge's house. They were old and moldy, so I scraped them out and washed the plates, then headed back to Marge's.

She smiled when I brought the plates in. "Thank you! I kept tellin' Ollie to look for them, but he always forgets. Ollie's my boy. You'll be meetin' him here shortly, he gets home from school around this time. After him and his friends are done with their mischief, you know how boys are."

"Yes ma'am. Do you know, is there a place in town where I could pick up a few things?"

"What do you need, child?"

"Sheets? Blankets? Clothes too I guess."

"Oh, well, I shoulda thought that. Len was buildin' that bed, but he has a cat allergy and he hadda step off. I don't think he ever asked Willie to finish it. Hmm. I made Ollie throw out all her old linens, they were in bad shape after she let the cats in that cupboard. I don't have no extras or I would let you have'm, but you know who might? John and Linda's girl just got married and they have all her old things still."

"Oh, if there is a store, I could buy some."

"Buy," she laughed. "Such a city girl you are. Waste not they say. Nothin' goes to waste around here! If it ain't bein' used then it's a waste! I'll call Linda right now."

"Really, it's no trouble!" I said, horrified at the thought of some strangers used sheets.

"Well there's Ollie. He can take you up to get clothes. Becky was more'n twice your size so her's won't fit. Might see if... Linda? Hello! This is Marge!"

Marge spoke loudly into the phone. A phone with a chord and a mount on the side of her fridge. Wow.

A tall, skinny boy came in smiling. "Hey ma!" he said, waving as he started to pass through. He saw me and paused. I was staring. The boy was easily six five and skinny as a rail. How had someone as large as Marge... the thought made my lips twitch.. 'Large Marge'. Bet no one ever made fun of her for that. How had someone her size made someone so skinny???

"Hey," the boy offered, smiling. He stuck a hand out as he sized me up. He definitely had not dismissed me as a child.

I shook his hand awkwardly. "Det," I offered.

He grinned. "Ollie. You must be Mrs Evanwoods's niece."

Ollie was adorable. His dark brown, almost black curly hair was escaping the ball cap he was wearing from every direction. His dark eyes sparkled as he grinned and they were the kind of eyes that spoke for him. For instance, now, he could not hide that fact that he liked what he saw.

"I am," I answered, wracking my brain for something more clever to say.

Marge turned from her phone conversation. "Ollie! There you are! I need you to run up town for me?"

"Sure ma. Butter? Eggs?"

"No, McClennon's. This is Det, she needs clothes. Can you take her?"

"Sure. Need anything while I am in town?" he asked, grinning. He was happy to be taking me anywhere. I tried not to smile as I looked up at him. Holy hell he was hot!

"No. Yes! Onions. Sweet yellow, not... no Linda, sorry. He said that?"

"Come on," Ollie whispered. "She won't be off the phone any time soon if that is Linda Oettstettler. The woman talks for days to anyone who will listen about her new son-in-law, the stockbroker." He rolled his eyes as he held the door.

I smiled as I went out and he led me to an old blue truck with a white cab. He opened the door and then offered a hand as I tried to climb in awkwardly. I wasn't built for trucks. He turned the old radio down as soon as he started the truck and looked at me several times as he drove. I felt just as awkward as he did. He was chewing his lip when I finally spoke.

"So you are still in school too?" I asked.

"Yeah! Yeah. Senior. You?"

"Me too."

"Cool. I can give you a ride if you don't want to take the bus?"

"I'd like that? Am I really supposed to start tomorrow? I thought there would be, I don't know, paperwork or something?"

"Nah. Ma got you squared away. Mabel aint used to people around. She doesn't like it much. So... you're eighteen, right?"

"Yeah. Just short."

"Like, really really short," he teased, his eyes shining.

"Yeah. I catch... I caught a lot of hell," I said, immediately sobering up.

His smile also faded. "I heard it happened fast," he said softly. "Sorry."

I shrugged. "I don't understand why it all happened like it did. I was on a bus before I knew what was going on."

"How do you mean?" he asked, pulling into the store lot and killing the engine, but turning to me instead of getting out.

"I mean... she said she didn't feel good, she was going to see her doctor before I left for school. She left me a message at lunch, said the DR said pneumonia and she was going to get prescriptions. By the time I got home, she was gone. Then I had like ten minutes to pack a bag and was taken out of the house? My... no... Not mine. Her oldest son, Jerry, he was no kin to me. He was her step son. He got the house and he kicked me out as soon as he found out. I don't even know what he did with my stuff. I am eighteen, I should have been able to stay and finish my senior year, but next thing I know, I am on a bus. I would have flown, but the bus ticket had already been booked. I didn't even get to take my car. Jerry said it was his even though I had been paying it off and paying the insurance. It was in Gemma's name. On the bus I made plans to contact a lawyer once I arrived... but it's all been so... surreal."