Chapter Two
The air was cool and brisk, spiked with the faint smell of smoke from the fireplace – the kind of air you wait all summer for and miss when winter finally arrives. The leaves changed into a brilliant array of color, signaling the arrival of autumn. It was that time of year when jack-o’-lanterns started to make their first appearances. Ghosts, vampires and werewolves became a staple in any decoration. Apples were being harvested and made into pies that were set on windowsills to cool (you could smell the pie from a mile away). The apples that survived the pies were made into spicy apple cider and given to friends and family. It was autumn country.
Mapleton was a small eastern town, nestled in heavy forests and rolling hills, the kind of town with white picket fences and old churches—where every season is fully exploited and enjoyed. The center of town built around one main street and a single intersection. Small businesses lined the streets for a couple blocks before the streets led off into the deep forest, winding through the hills and trees. Like the places you read about in travel magazines at the dentist office, much like Washington Irving’s sleepy abode for witches and headless horsemen. Like other small towns, Mapleton existed in its own world, separate from the more crowded, rushed life of everyone on the outside.
Tim Hacom drove his old farm truck through the center of town and smiled at his bride. Though they’d been married for several weeks, he still considered her his bride, his near-perfect catch, and they still lived in their perpetual honeymoon bliss that newly weds often experienced for at least a couple of months after tying the knot. At least Tim tried his hardest to make her believe that. In reality, the honeymoon ended for Tim almost before it started. The shroud Jamie had so effectively worn during their courtship quickly fell, replaced by something else. He honestly didn’t like the way she treated him, or even the way she treated life. She took in life in deep breaths—not caring about much, ignoring problems and challenges and leaving them for Tim to deal with. She loved him, he knew for sure that she did, and he loved her.
Thoughts of her still caused butterflies in his stomach. He just wanted her to chill out and enjoy life—savoring it like Tim did, not gulping it down like the food at some fast-food joint. Both Tim and Jamie were attractive people, as both worked hard to keep up their appearance. Jamie did yoga with several women in town and Tim did his best to run every morning. Tim loved the outdoors while Jamie did not care for it as much. But then, Jamie hailed from a nearby city, while Tim had grown up in Mapleton on his father’s farm. While he enjoyed hiking and camping, she contented herself to sit in the only coffee shop in town and read for hours.
“I absolutely cannot wait,” Jamie Hacom said, nearly bouncing out of her seat with excitement. “How much longer?” Tim smiled, then rolled his eyes when she turned away, “Kind of far from town though, don’t you think?” he said.
“It’s perfect, Tim! When do you think we’ll be able to start building?” she asked. He shrugged, “It’ll take a few weeks to clear the trees and we’ll have to wait until spring, so the ground will be more soft, a couple of months or so.”
Jamie nodded and continued watching the passing trees. Every once in a while they’d get to an overlook on top of a hill and the forest would open up in a sea of vibrant oranges, reds and yellows. The sun began to set and the light blended the colors so it looked more like a painting than a postcard. A light mist had begun its trailing through trees, snaking its way through the branches and leaves.
Tim’s mind flurried with thoughts about the plot of land they’d just bought, big enough for a nice sized home, and he struggled with how he planned on paying for it all. He wanted to work for his father, a farmer. Tim had worked for him for most of his life and had planned on continuing his job on the farm—he liked it and it was good honest work. Jamie, however, wanted him to focus on other things: go to school, or open up a small web-based company. He’d thrown around a few ideas about some web-companies, one of which was for gourmet foods. His parents hated the idea though, and constantly reminded him that only homosexual males spent time cooking—backwoods, backwards folk, he knew, but it still bothered him. Jamie fought for the idea all the more, claiming that his parents stifled him. The drama drove Tim nuts, and unfortunately, he took it out on Jamie more than he should—at least in his thoughts. In buying the house, however, they stepped forward on their own turf, away from his parents. The first step in their independence—and both looked forward to the time when they would have a home to call their own.
Mostly, Jamie wanted a place where she could paint the rooms and not incur a fine for doing so. Tim imagined that once they moved in to their newly built home, Jamie would paint the rooms with all sorts of colors and designs, and she would probably change them often, using the paint as an outlet for her creativity.
All through her growing up years, Jamie loved the arts—especially painting. Her family didn’t have much money, and they could not afford to send her to art school, so she started out on paper and when she had saved enough money from odd jobs, she’d buy a canvas. The canvas would sit in her room for months without her touching it. Jamie would just admire the possibility and potential of anything at all being born from its whiteness. Slowly, however, a picture would form into a masterpiece. Several of her paintings hung in their apartment and they both looked forward to hanging them in the house.
Tim reached over and took her hand in his. He loves her very much, despite his confusing reaction to being around her all the time. He concentrated on not sighing, or rolling his eyes as she smiled and laid her head on his lap, looking up at him dreamily. She kissed his hand and nuzzled her head into his abdomen. She said softly, almost to herself, “I love you Tim Hacom.”
Tim ran his fingers through her hair and held her close as he pulled off the road into a small clearing. He said, simply, “we’re here.”
“What?” She sat up so fast it started him. She jumped out of the truck before he even came to a complete stop.
Sun shone through the trees, creating laser-like rays of light all around. Jamie stood in the center of the clearing until Tim climbed out of the truck. “Do you like it?” he asked.
“Do I like it?” she ran and jumped onto his waist, wrapping her long legs around him. She kissed him hard on the mouth and smiled dreamily, “I love it here. It really is like a dream, I mean with all the colors and everything.” She hugged him tightly and licked his neck, moving her lips to his ear.
“Build me house?” she whispered, her lips touching his ear.
“For my wife?” Tim whispered back, “a damn nice house…” He kissed her shoulder. He moved his hands across the small of her back and lifted her shirt. He fingered her bra strap and she played with the buttons on his shirt, toying them to open.
“Let’s go back to the apartment,” she whispered. He bit her lip and snapped open her bra. She laughed and pulled away from him, slapping at his hand. “Come on, Tim. Let’s go home, we can finish what we started here."
© 2008, Derrick Hibbard. All Rights Reserved.
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