The Girl from the Ouachita Ch. 01

The Girl from the Ouachita

"Can I fill that cup for ya one more time before ya leave, Sweetie?"

Chris laid the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette down and pushed his empty coffee mug toward the happy waitress that had become "his" during his six-month stay in Hot Springs. As always, she poured coffee to the rim without looking, but when she didn't walk away, he looked up at her.

"Julie?" he asked without elaboration.

She sighed, gave him a tentative smile, and said, "I guess you know me too well, Sweetie. I have a favor I'd like to ask of ya."

"Of course! I 'll do anything for my favorite waitress -- especially on our last night together! Well, unless you're finally ready to abandon your old man and take off with me!" he teased.

When she gave him a tenuous smile instead of flirting back, as she done practically every night, he grew serious too. "Really, Julie, what can I do for you?"

"Don't turn around and stare, but there's a young woman in the last booth that needs your help. She's our daughter's best friend, and I've come to know her over the course of the three years she's lived nearby. She's a good girl in a bad situation, and I don't know anyone but you that can help her."

Chris' naturally open demeanor and smiling countenance morphed into a deep frown. "What's going on, Julie? This isn't like you, and you know I'm leaving -- I can't stay here and help anyone. The company expects me at the headquarters in Fort Worth tomorrow. Sorry, but you need to get someone else to help her."

Without answering, Julie waved the girl over to his table, signaled her to sit, and then sat down in another chair. The girl set her backpack and a small carryon-size suitcase on the floor, and sat down across from Chris.

He looked at her, froze, and just stared: she was gorgeous! Oh, she looked country and was dressed in faded jeans and a hoodie, but her face was... Hell, she looked like Grace Kelly!

Refined features, long, wavy, honey-gold hair, with a Cupid's bow mouth and pouty lips that just begged to be kissed.

"Chris Alexander, this is Jo Kennedy; Jo, this is Chris Alexander. He's a new friend of mine; well, he has been a friend ever since he came here a little over six months ago. He's the man in charge of the renovation of the historic bathhouses along Bathhouse Row, and I happen to know he's a good man! 'Trustworthy and mature beyond his years', his boss told me when he came to visit the job sites.

"Chris, Jo is a three sport star at Hot Springs High School who graduated with high honors at mid-term. She's a very, very wonderful person, smart, and very much 'mature beyond her years' as well. She's had to be, because her family situation is... pretty shitty, to be frank!

"She needs your help, and she needs it tonight! I know you're headed down to Fort Worth, and Jo needs to hitch a ride with you.

"No, she's not in trouble with the law or anything like that, but she needs to get away from here, and she needs to do it now! She was going to take a bus, but I asked her to wait and see if you would give her a ride.

"You see, Jo just got word that she received a scholarship to attend TCU at Fort Worth, and she needs to get down there and get ready for the next semester.

"There's more to her story than that, but it all comes down to this: can you give her a ride, tonight?"

Composing himself, his engineer's brain revving at high speed trying to take in sufficient information to make an important decision in an informed way, Chris looked at Julie's pleading face, and then at the remarkably composed and resolute face of his proposed passenger.

He asked, "How old are you, Jo?"

In a most melodious voice, she answered, "Today is my birthday -- I'm eighteen."

He looked back at Julie's hopeful face, turned back to Jo, gestured at her backpack and small suitcase, and asked, "Is this all you have?"

"Yes," she replied simply.

The decision made, he told her, "Jo, I'm on a tight schedule, so I plan to drive through tonight, go to the apartment the company is providing, crash for a few hours, and report to the office around noon. I can take you to your new place if it's close enough; if not, I'll get you a cab."

Julie started to speak up, but Jo simply said, "That will be fine. Thank you for letting me ride with you."

She stood, slung the backpack over her shoulder, and pulled the handle up on the roll on suitcase. Julie stood and they embraced for several seconds; she stepped away and waited for Chris to stand up. He put a twenty on the table, told Julie he would miss her, and smiled at Jo. "Let's go."

She followed him out to his company crew cab; he opened the back door, put some boxes in the bed of the truck, rearranged his bags, and placed hers in the cleared area. She reached for the door handle, but he pulled it open, and gestured for her to enter. When she was seated, he closed the door, went around to the driver side, and started the truck.

As he pulled away, Jo waved toward the restaurant. He saw Julie at the door waving, tooted the horn and proceeded toward Highway 270.

****

Jo stoically looked out the window for a while, before turning and asking, "How far are we from Fort Worth?"

"Probably five or six hours, depending on the number of pit stops," he replied. "That's why I drive at night, though; if we were coming in between 7 am and 7 pm, it would take another couple of hours due to the traffic."

They rode in silence until they were out of Hot Springs. Chris turned the XM radio to Willie's Roadhouse, just in time to hear The Man in Black sing Sunday Morning Coming Down.

He drummed the steering wheel with his thumbs and sang along; Johnny Cash was the only singer he could even begin to emulate with his gravelly voice, and he didn't care that Jo was watching him with a smirk. He'd drop her and whatever drama she was carrying with her off in Fort Worth, and they'd never see each other again, so her lack of appreciation for his singing ability was of no concern.

Waylon and Jesse sang Storms Never Last, followed by Waylon, Willie, and Jerry Jeff singing Luckenbach, Texas, which motivated Chris to sing along. Jo knew the words to this one, so she joined in.

Dottie West singing A Lesson in Leaving couldn't hold his attention, so he turned to Jo and asked, "So, were you born and raised in Hot Springs?"

She snorted, "Hardly! I went to school there for the last three and a half years, but we lived all around Northwestern Arkansas before that. Exciting places like Booneville, Bluffton, Sims, Washita, and Mt. Ida. Then Momma hooked up with a chicken farmer out near Pleasant Hill, which is just south of Hot Springs.

"Momma had big dreams, but she couldn't seem to get away from the Ouachita."

Chris chuckled. "So, Jo from the Ouachita..."

"Don't fuckin say it!" she exclaimed, but with a slight smile.

"Johnny Duncan and Janie Fricke..."

"She was a big fan. But you ain't no Cowboy, this ain't no 98, I ain't no sweet country girl, and that ain't the Bill Mack Show, so I guess it flames out right there."

"Oh, come on! You've got to see the irony -- I mean, me stopping for coffee, you hitchin', Texas bound, all tight in your faded jeans..."

"Well, you ain't the 'sexiest thing I've seen', but your plates are from Tennessee, so there's that..."

"Want to stop for some Strawberry Hill?"

"I'm 18; you could get arrested!" she responded in faux disbelief.

"You know we've got to do this! Ready?"

"No way I'm singing a duet with you! Your voice..."

"So sing with me! Come on, Jo -- it'll make the trip go by faster!"

He smiled at her until she stopped shaking her head and grinned; then he started. "Life can be great on the interstate when you're riding 'cross Arkansas. I won't forget the day I met the girl from the Washita..."

Jo just shook her head until he reached Janie's part; she hesitated for a second, then sang in the clearest, most sensual voice he'd ever heard, "She said 'Thanks for stopping. My name is Jo. You look like a cowboy to me..."

When she finished her part, he hesitated, mesmerized by her talent. She gave him a harsh look and circled her finger. He cleared his voice and sang, "I said 'You ain't bad for a country girl, all tight in your faded jeans..."

She joined in to sing the chorus loudly, "Wild as a raging river is she, Jo holds my heart in her hand,

Sweet country girl I'd give the world just to be your full time man"

They finished up and laughed together. Jo flirtatiously asked, "So, we just met, and I've already got your heart in my hand?"

"Depends," he replied, "Are you 'wild as a raging river'?"

"Do you have to ask? Most men can take one look at me and know exactly what I am!"

Affecting a backwoods country accent, he asked, "So, is that what moving to Texas is all about? Getting away from Momma and them, and being a 'wild thang'?"

It was a lighthearted question, proposed with a grin, but she clouded up and turned her face away.

"Hey, I was only joking! Julie said you were a good student and you had a scholarship to go to college there. That was just me trying to tease -- I'm sorry."

She turned back to him with a serious expression and said, "You probably need to know anyway, because this could come back to haunt you later.

"Truth is, I'm running away from my mother's perverted asshole boyfriend and his disgusting sons! They started hitting on me when my body finally started filling in three years ago. I told my coach, she told the counselor, she called child and family services, and they did an in-home visit. A deputy sheriff came along.

"He and his sons were warned by the DCFS lady that anyone molesting a minor would do hard time and become a registered sex offender. Then the deputy took them outside, told them I had his number, and if he got a call, he and his fellow officer would pay them a visit. If they survived, then they would go to trial and jail!

"I guess they took him seriously, but a month ago they started reminding me that my eighteenth birthday was coming up, and I overheard them talking to some other scum about the party they were throwing for me that night. Lots of alcohol, drugs, and men, they said. A little valium, some E, and I would go from birthday girl to party favor, and they would all partake.

"Mother is an alcoholic drug addict with the morals of an alley cat. Her response was, 'it's time you grew up and pulled your fair share, Jo. Life isn't all sunshine and roses - I've protected you from reality long enough!"

Jo snorted, "As if she's ever protected me from ANYTHING!

"So I started planning my escape, and Julie agreed to take me in until I could get away to college, just in case they jumped the gun on me turning 18. She's the one who told me she thought you would take me with you to Texas, and, well, here we are."

Chris sat silently for a few minutes, watching the road. "You're an enigma wrapped in a paradox, Jo. You look your age, but your experiences have made you more mature than you should be at your age. I can't imagine having lived your life and being as stable and composed as you are... or at least appear to be.

"I have a feeling you're going to conquer TCU like Hot Springs High School, and go on to great things. What's your planned major?"

"Education, but I'm also going to take a number of phycology and human behavior courses. I'd like to do my graduate work in Counseling."

"Geez! When I was your age I just wanted to get past my required freshman courses -- you have the next six years mapped out already!"

She smiled, "I hope it doesn't take that long. I took a lot of dual credit and AP courses; I have 32 hours of college credit. Actually, I have 36, but TCU doesn't accept 4 of them."

"Enigma wrapped in a paradox..." he said, shaking his head. "And I assume with an awesome intellect as well? What's your IQ?"

"I'm told I'm eligible for Mensa, but I doubt I'll join.

"What about you? You have a degree in Engineering from Tennessee, and you've been in charge of all those men restoring the bathhouses. You must be pretty smart, yourself!" she commented with raised eyebrows, a subtle way to ask for more information.

"Not Mensa, but I'm no dummy. My degree is actually in Engineering Technology Management, with a concentration in Construction Management. My dad is a contractor, so I grew up around construction sites."

"So, Mr. Alexander; you keep referring to my age -- what's yours?"

"Jo, you were in fifth grade when I was a senior; I'm twenty-five."

"You have a funny way of looking at things, Mr. Alexander. The difference between 18 and 11 is much greater than the difference between a mature 18 and an immature 25, much less the difference between, say, 41 and 48.

"You're not really that much older than me, so don't start trying to treat me like your kid sister!"

Her sudden vitriol spend, she hugged herself and they sat quietly for fifteen or twenty minutes. He considered her jibe, and had to accept her logic. She was a VERY mature, independent, and confident young woman of 18, and he was an immature, sheltered young man -- boy, in many ways -- of 25. Oh, he was full of confidence on a construction site, but in a bar, or one on one with an attractive woman of his age, he was timid and afraid.

He wasn't always that way. He was a high school sports hero, and had been elected president of the Student Government Association at UT when he was a junior. He was Dean's List every semester, in a top fraternity, and had scores of girlfriends before...

Before he fell in love and she nearly destroyed him, the arrogant, cheating bitch!

His sigh caught Jo's attention. "Want to talk about it? I'm a good listener."

He forced a chuckle. "I think not. It's something I'm trying to forget."

"Something, or someone?" she asked. "What's her name?"

He took his eye off the road long enough to give her a hard look, paused before he issued the harsh reply he had queued up, and then calmly asked, "About ready for a break? I am, and we're coming into Texarkana."

She was, so he stopped at Flying J, refueled, and went inside. On the way to the restroom, he noticed Jo was standing over by the pizza display with big truckers standing on either side of her. They were uncomfortably inside her space, but she appeared oblivious and in control. He detoured over by her, called her name from six feet way, waited for her to turn, and said, "Don't bother with Pizza; I've got grilled subs in the truck. Just grab yourself a drink and I'll be out in a minute."

The truckers glared at him, obviously thinking he was stealing their young lot lizard. He ignored them and went on to the restroom.

When he came out, he didn't see Jo. He looked around, got his drink, and walked back to the company truck. She was standing beside it, with the two truckers, who were still in her ear.

He opened the doors; she extricated herself, opened the passenger door, climbed in, rolled down the window, and said, "Thanks for the Coke, boys. As much as I appreciate your propositions, I'll have to pass this trip. Maybe another time -- ba-bye now!"

The truckers were staring bullets at him, so he backed out, turned, and drove back to Interstate 30. "Your new boyfriends weren't very friendly. They didn't even introduce themselves."

"Oh, that's where you're wrong, Honey!" she said with a pronounced southern lilt. "They were VERY friendly, and sweet thangs, too! They bought me this big ol' drink, and offered me $500 each to go back to one of their luxurious trucks with them! There might even be a bonus if I treated them extra-special."

"And yet you came back to my truck? Gee, how could you turn that deal down?" he asked sarcastically.

"I know, right? $1000 for about 10 minutes work! A girl doesn't get that opportunity every day! Just think how much I could make if I worked the lot all night, like that tweeker in the fake leather skirt and see-through blouse!"

His sarcasm grew. "Hmmm. Probably quite a bit! Do you think Mensa invites Lot Lizards? How about the highfalutin sororities at TCU?"

"Wa-el, Honey, sometimes a girl has difficult choices to make, doesn't she? Getting squashed for five minutes each by fat truckers for $1000, or getting back in the truck for another three hours with a judgmental prick! Not the easiest choice I've had to make lately!"

Her anger was palatable, and he was puzzled at her response: until he rethought what he said and how he said it. Suddenly, he was embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Jo. I've got two little sisters - one your age - I'm overly protective of, and, somehow, you bring that out in me."

The tenseness in her frame softened, but she remained silent for a few minutes before acknowledging his apology. "It's okay, Chris. I've been on my own so long that someone being concerned because I cadged a soda off some horny old men kind of pisses me off. I HATE it when people try to control me, and when they judge me...well, you saw! Sorry."

He chuckled. "I learned another lesson about you, I guess, but I had your best interest in mind. I was afraid they'd dragged you off to a truck when I couldn't find you inside."

Her voice hardened again. "Don't worry about me with people like that! My high school coach got me started in martial arts after I turned fifteen and started looking like -- well, like this: like a girl, instead of a twelve-year-old boy! She knew the family I was living with, and knew I'd need to be able to handle myself. Turned out I was a natural ass-kicker, although my sensei does not appreciate my blood lust once I get pissed.

"But believe me; NO ONE uses this body without my express approval, including big fat truckers, chicken farmers, or big shot engineers! That's not to say I'm some kind of virgin -- but I say who, I say when, I say how, and I say how much! Is that clear enough for you?

"I don't need you to protect me! I don't need anyone!"

He knew he should be quiet, but she aggravated him. "Okay, Ronda Rousey! I'll let you handle your own battles!"

She snorted. "Thanks, but I'm more Wasp than Rousey. I have mad computer skills too, and I'm a bit unhinged."

"Wasp?" he asked.

"You know -- Lizabeth Salander? Millennium Trilogy? No? How about The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo?"

He shook his head and shrugged, "Kids these days..."

She burst out laughing and slugged his shoulder hard. "You old fart! I guess that explains your fascination with old country music, you dang old millennial you!"

"And that explains your superior attitude, Miss Gen Z!"

She laughed, "I guess you ARE too old for me -- we're from different generations!"

He stole a look at her silhouette in the darkness, punctuated by car and truck lights, and thought "And that's a damn shame!"

****

She was quiet for a while, and he was lost in thought. This whole evening had been surreal. From Julie's plea, to doing something way outside his norm, to the ease with which they talked and sang - nothing about tonight was like anything in his experience.

The experiences were unique: the girl was surreal. If she had really lived the life she described -- and Julie's testimony seemed to confirm it -- if she had lived that life and come out of it with nothing more than a bad temper and thin skin, she probably was Mensa.

Oh, she had displayed a few undesirable traits -- cadging drinks off dangerous men, going postal over his willingness to help, the quick temper, and a sharp tongue, among others.

But she had to be out of her comfort zone, too. Headed for Texas with a stranger, enrolling at mid-term in an expensive private university without any means of support other than scholarships... yeah, this couldn't be within her realm of understanding, either.

Speaking of which; it's time for the $64,000 question. "Jo, it just struck me that today is December 18. The fall semester is over, it's at least three weeks until the spring semester, and I'll bet there won't be anyone at the dorm to let you in when we get there around 4 am. Where did you say you're staying?"