Jasmine Falls
Jasmine Falls
About the time Peggy Lee Thorne was calling the police about her missing daughter, Mila Thorne was walking into a convenience store on the far side of town. Her nocturnal travels had led her through the Cherry Hills residential area, down through the winding town, and eventually into the bustling business district. Here she found the 24 hour convenience mart boasting a wide assortment of merchandise from the local college. The first purchase she made for her new life was a backpack, in which she happily stowed her well-worn Nancy Drew. She had carried it all night, through the rain, through the streets, and now it had a new home. She paid for her purchase and went outside, slipping off into the alley. There she stealthily emptied money from her pants and undergarments, putting it all into the bag. Unburdened, Mila stepped back out onto the sidewalk. The sun was just coming up and she could finally read the signs around her with ease. She watched a jogger come and go, following his progress down the street. Her eyes settled on the diner two blocks down. The hand-painted sign over the door said “Home Fries” in red and gold letters. Mila decided to venture there; after all, she watched television, she knew what to do in a restaurant.
Once inside the small diner, Mila stood tentatively in the doorway, biting her lip as she looked around.
“Just sit anywhere, honey,” the mocha-skinned woman behind the counter said. She threw a towel over her shoulder nearly hiding the name-tag that read “Jenna” in faded lettering. Her soft, black hair had just the beginning touches of gray to it, but her smile kept her face looking young. “I’ll be with you in just a sec.”
“Thank you,” Mila replied. She chose a table at the farthest corner back and sank into the plump vinyl booth. Her feet ached, and she suddenly felt exceedingly tired. She yawned, trying not to let the need for sleep overwhelm her just yet.
“Lord, you look awful, honey,” Jenna said, coming over to the table. She handed Mila a menu and peered at the girl with her sharp, brown eyes. “Whatcha been doin’?”
Mila smiled politely though she felt nervous inside. Jenna regarded Mila for another moment and then said, “You want some coffee?”
“Yes, please,” Mila said, blowing out a sigh of relief. Jenna nodded and went to fetch the coffee. She returned a moment later with a steaming mug.
“You decided what you want yet?”
“Um…” Mila glanced down at the menu, mortally afraid of everyone knowing that she had never been in a restaurant before. She selected the first thing she saw. “Pancakes?”
“Okay. Back in a jiffy.”
A giddy thrill shot through her; Mila took her coffee cup with shaking hands and added too much sugar. She stirred too hard, sloshing dark liquid over the rim. She cleaned the mess with her sleeve and took a sip. It was super hot, and burned going down. She looked around the small diner, taking in the two other customers in the establishment. The old man at the counter was eating a grapefruit and reading the newspaper, and the woman at the front booth was having eggs and gazing absently out of the window. Neither of them paid her any attention at all.
“Here you are.” Jenna slithered a plate of hot pancakes with butter onto the table and set the accompanying syrup beside it. “You want anything else?”
Mila smiled and shook her head. “No, thank you.”
Jenna departed, leaving Mila to chew her breakfast thoughtfully. She was out and away from the house. And in order to stay out of the house, she needed to get a job. She wished she knew how to do that. She wondered what she could do. She never had a formal education, so it was hard to say what she was qualified to do. Maybe she could be a waitress, she thought, watching Jenna refill the old man’s coffee cup. That didn’t look too hard. Mila wondered where she should go, and how much money she would need to leave this town entirely, because as nice as it was, it was too small, and her mother was certain to find her. No, she needed to go somewhere noisy and dirty and crowded. Somewhere her mother abhorred and would never dare visit. Somewhere filled with all things against her hard-core Bible morals. Somewhere like New York or San Francisco or Hollywood. She wondered how far away those places were. She was fairly certain that Hollywood and San Francisco were in the same state, but she didn’t actually know much about either city.
Jenna returned to fill Mila’s coffee cup and Mila asked impulsively, “Which is closer to here, San Francisco or Hollywood?”
Jenna looked as though that was the strangest thing she’d ever been asked. “Well, that depends. You want to go north or you want to go south?”
“Um… north.”
“Then San Francisco would be closer. You want anything else to eat?”
“No, thank you.”
Jenna pulled a tiny slip of paper from her apron pocket and laid it on the table. “I’ll be at the register when you’re ready.”
Mila nearly panicked. Ready for what? What register? She looked frantically around the restaurant, but nobody paid her any mind. She picked up the square of paper and turned it over. There was some squiggly writing with a dollar amount next to it. It took her a minute to put things together, then Mila pulled some money from her bag and got up from the table. She walked slowly toward the woman diligently wiping down the counter, but was cut off by an interloper.
“Good morning!” the newcomer sang, jingling the door’s bells as she entered.
“Well, what’re you doing up so early?”
“Daddy’s on the rampage,” The girl confided with a flip of her auburn hair. The pretty twenty-something wrinkled her nose and held up a stack of flyers, saying, “The new crop is ready and we’re completely short-handed. We’re hiring anyone and everyone. Can I put one of these in your window?”
“Sure, baby, go ahead,” Jenna said with a smile. She looked up to see Mila frozen in the middle of the diner. “You all set?”
Mila started. “Um…”
She watched as the redheaded girl went to the window and taped up one of her flyers. Mila moved to the register and handed over her money.
“Thanks, Jenna!” the girl said and departed with a backward wave. Jenna waved absently at her as she counted out Mila’s pennies.
“Have a nice day, and I hope we’ll see you again,” the woman said sincerely.
“Thanks. Me too.” Mila stuffed her change in her jeans pocket and hurried out of the diner. She looked both ways down the street and spotted the girl going into a feed and tack store.
Mila jogged a little and caught up with her as she came out of the horse supply. “Hi.”
Mila’s mother would have died if she had known how forward her daughter was being with a complete stranger.
“Hello,” the girl said pleasantly and kept on walking.
“Um… I heard you say you were looking to hire some people.”
The girl stopped and gave Mila a smile. “That’s right. You looking for a job?”
“Yes,” Mila said.
“I’m ShayAnne Hawke,” the redhead said, reaching out to shake Mila’s hand. “You doing anything right now?”
She looked around to see if anyone was expecting the slender brunette.
“No,” Mila answered.
“Good,” ShayAnne replied. “Why don’t you come with me and help me finish putting up these flyers and then I’ll take you on up to the house.”
“Okay!” Mila replied eagerly. She couldn’t believe her good luck; one day out of her mother’s house and already she had a job! Or she almost had one, anyway.
“So what’s your name?” ShayAnne asked as they went up the street.
Mila panicked momentarily as she watched Shay staple a flyer to a telephone pole. The redhead looked at her expectantly.
“Just call me M,” Mila said finally.
“Em,” ShayAnne said. “That’s nice.”
Mila blushed at the compliment and looked at the ground, unsure of how to respond.
“Well, come on, then, Em,” ShayAnne said, “these flyers won’t hang themselves!”
+++
It was noon by the time Mila and ShayAnne finished putting up the last of Shay’s huge stack of flyers.
“You hungry?” ShayAnne asked Mila.
“Yes,” Mila admitted.
“Let’s stop and get a sandwich before we go back to the house, all right?”
“All right,” Mila agreed.
“My jeep’s parked at the bottom of the hill. You want to eat at Jenna’s again?”
Again. That meant they were going back to the diner where Mila had eaten breakfast. “Okay.”
Together they turned and walked back the eight blocks they’d come. Already some of their flyers had been ripped down, and ShayAnne pointed out one empty tree, saying, “I hope that means people are taking them because they need jobs.”
Mila smiled, thinking to herself, as long as there’s room for me…
“Here we go,” Shay said, stopping at the front door to Home Fries. She opened it and she and Mila ventured inside together.
“Back so soon?”
“Soon? It’s noon!” ShayAnne said with a smile when the proprietress teased her.
“Anywhere’s fine,” Jenna said, crossing the restaurant with two steaming plates of food in her hands.
“Counter?” ShayAnne suggested. Mila nodded, not willing to argue with her new boss. They sat together on the round, red-seated stools and picked up their menus. Mila didn’t recognize half of the things listed. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
Jenna returned to her post behind the counter and said, “You girls know what you want?”
“Iced tea,” ShayAnne replied, “and a grilled cheese sandwich.”
“Fries?”
“Duh.”
“Don’t you be smart with me, girl,” Jenna said, but she was smiling all the time. She glanced at Mila. “What about you?”
“Oh. Um… I’ll have the same as she’s having, please.”
“All right,” Jenna said, “two grilled cheese sandwiches, coming up.”
She reached beneath the counter and brought up two tall glasses and a pitcher of iced tea. Mila hadn’t realized how thirsty she was until she saw the amber liquid splash into the cool glass. She greedily guzzled down half of it in the first gulp, and immediately felt ashamed. Jenna just laughed, though, and filled up Mila’s glass again before shuffling off to fill their order.
“So,” ShayAnne said, turning halfway to look at Mila, “are you new here in town? I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”
“No,” Mila said uncomfortably, “but it’s a big town.”
ShayAnne chuckled. “I guess that’s true. I have an aunt that lives in Los Angeles, though, so I’ve never really thought of Jasmine Falls County as being that big. But I guess you’re right.”
Mila just smiled.
“Did you go to school around here?” ShayAnne asked, taking a sip of her tea.
“I was home-schooled,” Mila answered. “Is that okay?”
ShayAnne laughed openly. “Sure, why wouldn’t it be?”
Mila was beginning to think she was in over her head, so she stared down at the Formica counter top and said nothing. ShayAnne stared at Mila curiously, looking like she wanted to ask more questions, but Jenna’s arrival interrupted her. Mila’s mouth watered when the woman set the grilled cheese with french fries in front of her. She vaguely knew what these things were. She recalled Mei having made her a grilled cheese once or twice when she was little, but french fries were a luxury her mother never allowed. Mila’s stomach knotted as she stared at the little slivers of potato sitting on her plate. ShayAnne promptly doused her sandwich and her french fries with a thick layer of ketchup, then offered the bottle to Mila. “You want some?”
“Oh… um, okay, thanks,” Mila said, accepting the bottle. She hesitantly squirted some of the red goo on her food. She put the bottle on the counter and watched ShayAnne cram food into her mouth. Mila picked up a single french fry with a dribble of ketchup on it and popped it into her mouth, prepared to swallow it whole if it tasted terrible. She chewed; she chewed more. My God, that’s fantastic! she squealed inwardly. Why had her mother never allowed her to eat these before? She grabbed another french fry and ate it, then two at a time; then she got brave and picked up half her sandwich.
It was salty and melty and crunchy and chewy all at the same time. Mila thought she had died and gone to food heaven. Salty and melty made a phenomenal combination as far as she was concerned. Mila paused to drink more of her iced tea and then promptly went back to gobbling up the delicacies upon her plate.
When neither girl could eat another bite, ShayAnne paid the check and left a sizeable tip for Jenna on the counter.
“Can I ask you something?” Mila said as they walked over to ShayAnne’s jeep. ShayAnne unlocked the car and they both got in.
“Sure,” Shay said, sticking her key in the ignition. The engine turned over smoothly and the redhead put the car in gear and pealed out into traffic.
Mila hung on tightly and said, “Why did you leave that money on the counter?”
“What do you mean?” Shay asked, stopping to look both ways at the corner’s stop sign. “It was a tip. For Jenna.”
“Oh,” Mila said, not completely understanding.
“I know I always over tip, if that’s what you’re asking,” ShayAnne said. “I can’t help myself; it’s my generous nature.”
She shrugged.
“Do people always tip waitresses?”
ShayAnne looked at her as though an extra eye or nose or mouth had popped up on her face. “Well, I should hope so.”
“Oh.” Mila turned away, embarrassed. She’d have to make it up to Jenna next time she went in to Home Fries.
She stared out the window until her face stopped flaming; only then did she really notice where they were. ShayAnne’s car was heading out of the city proper now, and beginning a hilly climb toward the outskirts of town. Wherever they were going, it seemed to be the opposite side of the county from where Mila’s mother’s house stood. It was with a huge sigh of relief that Mila looked on as the town’s buildings melted into homes. The houses gradually became further and further from one another, leaving Mila with an uncertain pang in her stomach.
“Where are we going exactly?” she asked, trying to keep as pleasant and even-sounding as possible.
“We’re going up to the ranch house,” ShayAnne said. “Wait, are you sure you’re not new here? I mean, you do realize I’m one of the Hawkes? I mean, the Hawkes.”
Mila had some vague idea that this meant ShayAnne was somewhat important. Not wanting to appear any more ignorant, she said, “Oh! Yes, of course. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”
ShayAnne snorted. “Look, it’s not like I’m trying to be a show-off or anything, but like I said before, this town has always felt small to me, and most everyone always seems to know who I am.”
Mila nodded, not knowing what else to say.
“I’m not a snob, I swear,” ShayAnne insisted.
“Oh, I know you’re not!” Mila was quick to reply. She gave ShayAnne a genuine smile and experienced a satisfying tingle when the smile was returned.
“We’re going to be friends, aren’t we, Em?” ShayAnne asked.
“The best,” Mila promised.
+++
Hawke Orchards turned out to be so far on the opposite side of Cherry Hills that it bordered the next neighboring town of Jasmine Falls. Out here it was lush and green, and when ShayAnne pointed her jeep down a tree-lined avenue, Mila found herself wishing she could stay here always. It was open and beautiful, and there were people picking cherries on virtually every tree they passed.
“Welcome to the house,” ShayAnne said when she pulled to a stop in front of the enormous family estate. Mila’s house was large and ostentatious, but the Hawke family manor was downright palatial, yet the exterior managed to retain the homey look Mila expected from someone as warm as ShayAnne. The girls got out of the car and ShayAnne said, “Just let me run inside and get Daddy; he knows where all the forms are. I’ll be right back.”
“Okay,” Mila said. She stood in the driveway, hugging her backpack with both arms.
After a few moments, the front door opened and out stepped a friendly-looking old rancher.
“Hello,” he called to her with a wave of his weathered hand. Mila looked around to see who he was speaking to; Bill Hawke approached and held out a form and a pen. “Here you go. ShayAnne told me you’re in the market for a job. You like hard work?”
“Yes, sir,” she replied and took the offered items.
“You just fill that out and we’ll get you started this afternoon,” Bill said. “Shoot, I tell you, we had a better crop of everything this year than we expected, especially the cherries. They came in sweet and juicy! Only problem is we ain’t got enough hands to pick ‘em all. You got any friends who’re looking for jobs?”
Mila shook her head, trying to write on the form in mid-air.
“Oh, here,” Bill said, “why don’t you just use the hood of the jeep, there.”
“Um… all right.”
The engine was still hot, and therefore writing on it was not a comfortable experience. She hurried to fill out as much as she could while Bill talked behind her.
“Now, we can only pay minimum wage, so I hope that’s all right.”
“All right,” she responded immediately. She didn’t know what that meant, but anything that brought her more money had to be good. She handed back the form and Bill looked it over.
“There’s a lot of blank spaces on this application,” he said, looking at her suspiciously. “You don’t have a home address or telephone number?”
“No, sir,” Mila said. “I’m just… looking for a new place to live.”
He squinted at her a moment, then went back to the form. “You’re how old?”
“Twenty-five,” she answered truthfully. He did not look convinced as his eyes raked over her thin body.
“Twenty-five,” he repeated.
“Daddy!” ShayAnne’s voice interrupted them. “You wouldn’t be grilling my friend, now would you?”
“No, I was just chatting with her. Do you have your social security card?” he added, turning to Mila.
“No, sir,” she said, feeling the panic rising in her throat. “But I have my birth certificate, if that helps.”
“Maybe,” he grunted. “I’ll have to ask our accountant. Don’t worry, we’ll get it straightened out before payday.”
“Payday?” Mila repeated blankly.
“Yeah, the first and the fifteenth are paydays ‘round here. Unless you work under the table, then we give you cash at the end of the day.” He gave her a smile. “Well, ShayAnne, why don’t you take her down to the cherry orchard and show her how it’s done. I still got a few more guys coming in this afternoon. I hate that employment agency; they gouge us left and right. You need to rustle up some more friends, young lady!”
ShayAnne only laughed. “Oh, Daddy! Honestly, if it’s that important, why don’t you tell Beth to get her tail in gear and bring home some friends from college?”
“Now that is a mighty fine idea, missy!” Bill said as his daughter started off toward the orchards. “You girls have fun!”
“See you later!” ShayAnne called. Mila followed her, tripping along behind her as she hurried to keep up with the redhead’s swift pace. “So, the important thing is to get them off the trees before the birds peck ‘em to death or before they get overripe. Once they go bad, there’s nothing we can do with them.”
ShayAnne paused to take a shortcut over a low-rising wooden fence instead of going down to the gate. Mila swung her leg over and went along after her new friend, who kept right on talking as she walked. “I’ll get you some baskets, and I’ll stay out here with you till you get the hang of it, but then I got other stuff to do up at the house. Say, where you staying at? Do you live nearby?”
“Oh… um… well…” Mila hedged. “I’m looking for a…”
Her mind blanked. What?
“An apartment?” ShayAnne supplied.
“Yes!” Mila answered, relieved. “Yes, that’s it. I’m looking for an apartment.”
“Well, if you don’t have anyplace to stay tonight,” ShayAnne said as they arrived at their destination tree, “you can always sleep in the stables.”
“The… stables?” Mila repeated.
ShayAnne laughed. “Yeah, you know, with the horses. I mean, if you seriously had no place else to go. But there’s probably rooms available at the Town View Motel there at the bottom of the hill.”
She handed Mila a basket and said, “Here. Now, come on!”
She spent the next half hour instructing Mila on the proper way to pick cherries. When Mila successfully demonstrated the technique, ShayAnne left her on her own, telling her to leave the full bushel baskets by the dirty path and the guys in the truck would come pick them up at quitting time.
“I hope you’ll like it here,” ShayAnne said as she departed.
“I’m sure I will,” Mila replied.
“See you tomorrow, Em.”
“See you tomorrow.”