Interested in reading The Rebels but not quite sure if it's for you?! Here's the entire first chapter to help you with your decision... You know, because I'm nice like that.
ONE
“But know this, that in the last
days perilous times will come.” –2 Timothy 3:1
Realization
Daddy
spoke absently to me as I stared at the blood-speckled snow under my small
feet. I listened closely, trying to ignore the loud ringing from the gunshot
still echoing in my ears. He took a drink of moonshine from a mason jar, a
product of his own copper still. I guess I’ll never forget his words, although
he wasn’t trying to be as insightful as I believed him to be.
The
man I admired more than any other human soul looked up from the deer he was
skinning, knife still in hand. “This
world ain’t worth nothing no more. Don’t trust nobody, Temper. You hear me?
Don’t trust nobody.” Those sentences were formed between puffs of a Marlboro
cigarette and sips of White Lightning before he turned his attention back to
preparing the trophy of his morning hunt.
My
dark blond ponytail bounced as I nodded my head. That was a promise I planned
to keep until my dying day. I was only six years old when I agreed to his
demand, but my word was trustworthy, nonetheless. Daddy’s fragments of advice
and warnings play in my mind often but that one, sixteen years ago, is the one
I have based my entire life around.
His
speeches were never eloquent and he was a man of very few words but I took his
guidance to heart. Daddy didn’t have a college education because he didn’t need
one. He understood how to survive in this crazy world and that was good enough
for me.
“Ma’am?”
I
jumped, my eyes darting upward to the cashier in front of me as her beckoning
brought me out of my wayward reverie. “Oh, I’m sorry.” I spit out awkwardly. “I
need to pay sixty dollars for fuel at pump number four, please.”
“Yeah.
Sure. Is everything alright?” The woman asked with a raised eyebrow. Her false
concern was neither surprising nor unordinary. No one really cared about anyone
else anymore, especially not strangers. It was a dog eat dog world… Every man
for himself.
My
phony smile didn’t fool her any more than her indifferent inquiry had fooled me
and I darted my green eyes distractedly. “I’m fine. I’m just a little tired.
Long day, you know?”
She
grunted, “I know how that goes. I’ve been working for ten hours now and I’ve
still got two to go.”
With
her haggard appearance, no one could have questioned her claim. Her eyes had
dark circles around them and little lines, the form of early wrinkles,
scattered haphazardly across her bony face. The woman wasn’t old, maybe thirty
years at the most, but she already had a crown of graying hair where her golden
red highlights needed to be touched up.
“Hmm,”
I replied as I handed her a few wadded up dollar bills, fishing in my pocket
for the rest. “Is the convenient store shorthanded today?”
“Nah,
I need the overtime. I’ve got bills to pay and two kids to feed. This place
doesn’t pay very well and I’m taking classes a couple days a week down at the
community college. I have to pay for my books,” she shrugged dejectedly.
I
had pulled a double at the commissary the last two days in a row, partially for
the overtime but mainly because of my manager’s looming threat that if I wanted
to keep my job, I’d be there with a smile on—and as little else as possible, in
that creep’s opinion. By the time I pulled into the parking lot, a line of
military wives waited in irritation for their organic cucumbers and assorted
snack packs. By noon I had blisters covering both ankles from all the running I
had done in my black and gray Corral boots. Not to mention that I was always
the last to leave with an aching back and a throbbing pain in my right knee
from a previous wrestling injury I blamed on my older brother.
Needless
to say, I knew how she felt. “Yeah, well, count your blessings. I would love to
have a baby but I can’t afford one.” I tried to laugh with my last sentence but
it wasn’t funny. The pitifully honest words put a bitter taste in my mouth just
to speak them so I changed the subject while she continued to pry at the
outdated cash register. “What are you majoring in?”
She
rolled her eyes, “Business. I thought that would pay well but then the economy
crashed. My dream was to be a journalist but it’s too hard to find a
well-paying media career and I knew if I was going to spend so much time with
school I at least had to be able to find a job after graduation. So, I chose
business. What a mistake! I’m nearly finished now so it’s too late to change
majors without wasting three semesters of my life.”
The
cashier shrugged dolefully and continued, “The gas station offered to give me a
raise if I stay here. As an assistant manager I’ll earn eight dollars and
twenty five cents an hour. That’s a whole dollar over minimum wage. Can you
believe that? A bachelor’s degree is worthless anymore. It makes me sick.”
She
took a deep breath and forced her lips upward at the corners. It didn’t work
very well. Shaking her head, she handed me my change and nodded toward the
door, “Have a good day.”
“Thanks.
You too. Good luck with school,” I mumbled as I walked through the door.
I
glanced around suspiciously out of habit and pulled my keys out of the pocket
on my black leather jacket. My car door opened with a miserable squeak and I
brushed my blond side-bangs out of my eyes. With my right hand, I shoved the
keys into the ignition and started the engine while simultaneously using my
left hand to click the “lock” button on my doors. The shifter went smoothly
into “drive” and I shot out of the parking lot like a bullet.
Pulling
away safely, my ragged breathing calmed and I turned the radio on. Led Zeppelin
blared through my speakers and out my windows but the sound of the cashier’s
disgusted voice in my ears was all I could hear.
***
“How
was work?” I asked as my husband slowly joined me in the kitchen. His handsome
face and camouflage uniform were covered with oil from the F-22 Raptor he had
been slaving over and his muscled arms were just as filthy. He dropped to the
chair in exhaustion without answering my question.
I
glanced at the clock, reheating his dinner. “You haven’t been home before dark
once this week. Your pork chops were ready hours ago. Did you have a bad day?”
“It
was normal. Sorry I’m so late again. I’m starving,” Voss answered with a failed
attempt at a reassuring smile.
“They
didn’t give you time to eat lunch again?” I asked in aggravation. That was a
question I already knew the answer to.
Voss
comes home starving every night because he barely gets to eat lunch and they
work him until his fingers bleed. “Tell me the truth. They didn’t even give you
a lunch break, did they? Not even ten minutes, right?”
Voss
winced, knowing he said too much. “It’s alright.”
“It’s
not alright. You worked thirteen hours today without a single bite to eat. Axe
murderers and child molesters who sit in prison cells are treated better than
that. You’re a soldier, a member of the United States Air Force. Just a little
respect would be nice.”
“No
big deal,” he whispered as he devoured the food on the plate I prepared for
him. He paused for a moment, taking a drink of cold tea then turning to me.
“How was everything at work?”
“Fine,”
I answered, reaching out to hold his hand. “The commissary was pretty empty
this afternoon so I was released a little early. I paid a few bills, got gas,
and came home. That was it.”
“Do
we have enough money left to last until payday?”
“Barely,
but we’ll be fine.” I assured unconfidently.
My
husband didn’t reply. He pursed his lips together and finished his meal.
Handing me his empty plate, he painfully lifted his tired body from the table
and walked toward our bedroom. I locked
the doors and followed, ready for bed. Voss struggled to pull his t-shirt over
his aching muscles and I reached out to run my hand down his arm lovingly.
“A
little help?” He asked with a weary smile.
I
stood on my tippy toes to pull the filthy rag off of his shoulders and over his
head. “Thanks, babe.” He whispered as I gathered his wallet, keys, dirty shirt
and hat together to put them away for the night.
I
glanced back at him as he pulled off his boots. His muscled chest and abs were
tight and he stretched to each side, hoping to relieve some of the discomfort
from the morning’s workout. I stared at
the tattoo positioned perfectly on the right side of his chest that
complemented the slightly smaller one on my right shoulder.
The
shield on his chest was large, taking up most of his right pectoral muscle. The
bright green cross in the middle of it, which shot green accentuations through
the rest of the tattoo, drew most of the attention, but the verse over the top
that said, “Put on the full armor of God” was my favorite part. At the bottom
of the shield, the verse, “Ephesians 6:16” completed his tattoo.
Out
of the five of us who had coordinating tattoos, mine was the only one not placed
on the pectoral muscle… but since I was the only girl, and a chest tattoo
wasn’t quite as ideal in my opinion, I had no choice but to find an alternate
location. Being the only girl never made me the odd one out to my four favorite
guys though. It was more like I was the special one, the most valued, in their
eyes.
I
glanced over my shoulder into the mirror to stare at my own tattoo- the cute
cowboy boots on the right side of my upper back. The purple cross cut-out in
the side of the boots was small compared to Voss’ green one, but like his, the
color from the cross highlighted the rest of the tattoo. The boots had angel
wings going up the sides and the same words from the book of Ephesians were
tattooed across the top, only slightly smaller. My own special verse,
“Ephesians 6:15” was written at the bottom.
Turning
on my heels, I ambled away to finish my task of putting away his things. When I
reentered the bathroom a few minutes later, he was humming his own strange
rendition of Johnny Cash’s Folsom Prison Blues in the shower.
“Don’t
forget that Eden’s second birthday is this weekend. We promised Shawn and
Allison that we would come to the party,” I reminded, washing off my make-up.
“Oh,
I completely forgot about that. I’m sorry, you’re going to have to go alone,”
Voss answered from the other side of the shower curtain.
“What?
Why?” I asked in disappointment, facing the shower. I traced the multicolored
fish on the blue curtain as I waited for his response. I knew what he would say
because it had been said so many times before.
“Some
guy got busted for underage drinking so they’re bringing us all in on Saturday
for a four mile run, then we have to work for a while.”
“You
worked last weekend though!”
“Tell
that to the idiot who got us all in trouble.”
I
bit my lip, running a hairbrush through my dark blond hair, “I was really
looking forward to spending time with you.”
“I’ll
be off on Sunday, at least.”
I
stared into the mirror as Voss threw the shower curtain open behind me. His tan
form barely came into view in the steamy mirror and I tossed a blue towel over
my shoulder to him. He wrapped it around his waist just as I finished brushing
out my hair and I turned around to follow him into the bedroom.
“We
can’t miss church on Sunday morning, you have to mow the backyard this weekend
before we get in trouble by the base housing office, and you promised you would
work on my car. The Check Engine light is still on and it died again today. I
was listening to Awolnation, feeling pretty awesome in my Dollar Store
sunglasses and pulled up to the red light when it sputtered and died. It took
me four tries to get the engine to start back up. People laughed,” I moped with
my hands on my hips.
He
chuckled at my embarrassment as he threw his tired body into the bed and wrapped
his strong arms around me, “I’m sure you looked cool. No worries. I’ll get it
all done. No rest for the wicked, right? Anyway, eat a piece of cake at Eden’s
birthday party for me and brag on Shawn’s new wedding band. Have you seen it
yet? It’s awesome and he’s really proud of it. After three years of saving up
money for it, he should be, I suppose. Maybe one day we’ll have three rowdy
kids like Shawn and Allison do and both of us can scrape up the money for nicer
wedding rings.”
“I
guess. Let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow will be another busy day just like this
one,” I whispered, snuggling up next to him.
Voss
didn’t reply and I tilted my chin up to face him. His eyes were already closed
and his mouth slowly dropped open in front of me as exhaustion overwhelmed him.
I
kissed him lightly on his soft lips then rolled over to stare upward at the
ceiling in contemplation. My last birthday cake held twenty two candles but it
might as well have been full of them. It came as an odd relief that I probably
only had another sixty or seventy years to worry about finances and my mere
existence.
I
thought about Daddy and instantly one of our arguments came to mind. “You’re
making a mistake leaving this town, girl. Ain’t nothing out there but crooks. I
need you here to help with the family business. Why can’t you just go to
college in town like your brother did?”
“Daddy,
that’s a vocational college. I don’t want to learn to weld,” I mumbled, packing
my bags.
“What’s
wrong with welding? Heck, you could get a job at the steel mill right across
town and make good money. Besides, you’d be close and could help me with the
moonshine business. Do you know how busy I’ll be when I don’t have you making
our runs?”
“I
don’t want to run moonshine, Daddy. I want to be a psychologist. I want to help
people.”
“Who
says my White Lightning don’t help people?” He grumbled, obviously offended.
I
rolled my green eyes, “Daddy—”
“And
you want to be a shrink? Won’t that take years of school? I can’t have you gone
that long. I know a man who can print you up a real nice license that’ll look
genuine and never get you caught. You could start charging money for advice
tomorrow,” he said seriously as he picked up the phone to dial.
“No,
no, no!” I shrieked, yanking the phone from his fingers. “Daddy, I’m going to
college whether you like it or not. I’ll only be an hour from home.”
Daddy
scrunched his eyebrows, “Is that Voss Jensen boy going to be there? Is that
what this is all about? You know, I talked to Sutton Sorenson’s grandpa at the
hardware store yesterday and he said that Sutton took a job at the mill.”
I
took a deep breath, putting my hands on my hips as I answered. “Yes, he’ll be
there. No, he’s not what this is about. And for the last time, I couldn’t care
less what Sutton Sorenson does. I’m not dating him anymore and I won’t ever be
again. That ship has sailed, Daddy. Anyway, once I graduate I can even afford
to buy you a new fishing boat. How does that sound?”
“Your
sweet talk ain’t changing my mind about all of this, Temper. What if you get up
there and have an emergency? How could I get to you? Have you thought of that?”
He questioned, his voice growing louder. Daddy reached up and tucked a stray
string of blond hair behind my ear dotingly and then crossed his chest with his
arms.
“Oh!
Listen to yourself. I’ll be an hour away. One hour! I’ll be home every weekend.
Besides, I can take care of myself. You taught me how to handle things on my
own,” I reminded him. Daddy trained me from the time I was born to be tough,
strong, unshakeable, unbreakable. He taught me to fight. He taught me to
survive.
“I
don’t know, Temper. I just don’t think you should go,” he grumbled as he walked
out of my room.
Daddy
was the one who named me. Mama wanted to call me something popular from a giant
book of assorted baby names. I think she was settled on Courtney or Bethany.
Daddy wanted something unique instead, something unheard of. Once I was born he
told everyone in the room that I wasn’t meant for a normal name. I needed
something special, something different.
He
supposedly said, “Look in her eyes. You can tell she has a temper! That’s what
we’ll call her. My little Temper.” I would have much preferred Courtney or
Bethany.
My
name was a joke from the beginning though. Everyone in school called me Timid
Temper, because I was sweet and shy, far from being the spitfire my daddy
wanted. “I don’t care what anyone says,” he always argued. “I can see it in her
eyes. She’s got something bold and stubborn about her. Yep, she’s got a temper,
alright.”
I
gave up trying to convince Daddy that I should leave town and go to college. I
just waved goodbye from the rearview mirror. That was four years ago, before I
went to college with Voss. He and I were married only a year later. Daddy
wasn’t fond of that choice either.
When
the economy crashed, Voss joined the United States Air Force. It didn’t take me
long to find out that a bachelor’s degree in psychology amounts to little but
costs a lot. Voss never graduated from college. The Air Force recruiter
promised he could continue his education to get him to join but that was just a
trick we shouldn’t have fallen for.
Thinking
about our lifelong journey that would surely be full of struggle and lack must
have been depressing enough to put me to sleep because my eyes fluttered closed.
A few hours later, I woke up to the sound of my world crashing around me. I’m
sure the first day of the crisis was different for everyone, but for me it all
started with a twenty second phone call.
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