Burned by Ellen Hopkins
get to know him.
Turned out it wasn’t hard at all.
Journal Entry, June 7
Yesterday I thought riding a horse
was an accomplishment. Today
I learned how to drive. I think
I did pretty good, too. At least,
I didn’t run into anything or
blow up Aunt J’s pickup.
It wasn’t exactly legal, I know.
But Aunt J said it was her property,
she’d damn well do as she pleased,
and, besides, some laws were meant
to be broken—laws made for no
reason but to keep good people in check.
She said the government was like an
impatient cowboy—quick to hobble
a spirited horse until it wasn’t good
for anything but dog food.
I also met Ethan today. He is by
far the most beautiful man I’ve
ever seen. Aunt J said he’s a college
sophomore, which must mean
he goes to college. I wonder where.
No “institutes of higher learning”
out here in the sticks, I’ll bet.
I wonder why I’m wondering
about him at all. He’s so out of my
league. Ah, who cares? At least
he’s giving me something to think
about besides the mess I left
behind in Carson City.
I’ve been here eleven days, and they
haven’t called once to check up
on me, or even just to say hi.
Won’t Dad croak when he finds
out Aunt J taught me to drive?
He’ll have to lock up his keys.
If he ever lets me come home.
On Saturday
After breakfast and chores, Aunt J said she needed to
run into Panaca to pick up supplies from the feed store.
She tossed me the keys. You drive. Practice makes perfect.
It was my first time on an honest-to-goodness road.
Aunt J played with the radio, looking for country tunes.
She barely even flinched the time or two I miscalculated,
spinning the tires up the dirt shoulder, then back to asphalt.
The second time, I said, “Okay, that had to scare you.”
She quit fiddling with knobs and looked over.
I’ve made it through some god-awful things, Pattyn.
Nothing much can scare me. No sir, not anymore.
She opened the window wide, inviting the wind.
I’d connected with Aunt J in a special way, yet how
little I knew about her. She had trusted me with her
truck. Would she trust me enough to confide secrets?
“What awful things, Aunt J? Tell me, please.”
I didn’t dare take my eyes off the road, but I felt
her withdrawal into that distant place deep inside.
We bumped along for several silent minutes, as she
settled into the indefinable space where she needed to be.
And if we hadn’t crossed the railroad tracks,
signaling the highway’s imminent approach, she might
have broken down and told me everything right then.
Instead she said, I’d better drive from here.
I pulled over, remembered to push the gearshift
into P for park. Aunt J came around and took the wheel,
and as I scooted my black-and-blue butt across the seat,
I vowed to weasel her secrets, however dark they might be.
At the Feed Store
I followed Aunt J inside,
letting my eyes adjust to filtered light
and my nose admire the potpourri.
Leather.
Grain.
Alfalfa.
Aunt J disappeared out back
while I wandered over to a far wall,
drawn by a riot of sound.
Cheeps.
Scuffs.
Hisses.
Yellow fluffs under warming
lamps, sifting through scratch
and testing stumpy wings.
Chicks.
Ducklings.
Goslings.
Finally, I heard Aunt J. I turned
to see her talking to a guy
with a vaguely familiar voice.
Tall.
Built.
Gorgeous.
Gorgeous? Ethan! And I hadn’t
even brushed my hair! I hurried
outside, hoping he wouldn’t see me.
Ha.
Ha.
Ha.
He Trailed Aunt J
To the pickup, carrying a fifty-pound sack
of cracked corn like burlap-wrapped feathers,
tossed it in the bed, went back for another.
I dropped my face, so he wouldn’t notice
its ordinariness as he passed the window.
I’m pretty sure he glanced my way once
or twice, walking by. Striding by, with long,
lean legs, hugged tight by Wranglers.
I pretended not to watch, but the corner
of my eye caught every little detail.
The way he moved. How his muscles flexed.
Facial structure. The vivid green of his eyes
beneath a long wave of hair, mink brown.
Justin and Derek could eat their hearts out—
if Tiffany and Carmen didn’t beat them to it.
Three sacks of grain and a bag of dog food
later, he thanked Aunt J and started off.
At the door he turned, and I just about died
when he flashed me his should-be-famous
smile and mouthed, See you soon.
See Me Soon?
What did he mean by that?
Did I care?
Considering recent events,
I shouldn’t care.
I was going to stay innocent.
Men were evil.
I was going to die celibate.
Men were trouble.
I would not date again.
Men lied.
I would not marry, ever.
Men cheated.
No man would own me.
So why,
despite all of the above,
was I,
so suddenly and completely
fascinated with this man?
Aunt J Knew, Too
He’s cute, huh?
Cute did not define it. “I guess.
Who is he, anyway?”
Ethan is the son
of an old friend.
Ah. Things were getting clearer.
But…“His mom or his dad?”
Both, but mostly his dad.
We were almost on a roll.
“So, um…he lives around here?”
Just outside of Caliente.
We lived just outside of Caliente.
“Near the ranch?”
Right down the road. Why?
Why, indeed? “No special reason
except he said he’d see me soon.”
He will. He’s helping us
move the cattle.
Oh brother. I felt like a total
dolt. “Oh, okay.”
I figured someone with
experience couldn’t hurt.
Someone without a bruised butt,
she meant. “Probably not.”
Especially someone cute.
Was she playing matchmaker?
I smiled. “When’s he coming?”
Next Sunday. It’s his day off.
Next Sunday? Eight whole days
away? “Not tomorrow?”
He and his dad have plans.
I decided to fish a little. “Don’t you
ever go to sacrament meetings?”
Not this ol’ bird.
You’re free to go.
Free not
“But you’re Mormon, aren’t you?”
Was once. Gave up
on it, though.
The ice had been broken—chipped,
anyway. “How come?”
Long story, one you
maybe shouldn’t hear.
One I had to hear, now. “I want to
know, Aunt J. Need to know.”
Maybe after supper.
I have to unload the feed.
It Seemed Like Forever
But after dinner, we settled
into chairs on the porch.
The dogs parked at our feet,
and cats rubbed up into our laps
as Aunt J spilled her tale.
You might think I’ve never been in love,
but you’d be wrong. I was seventeen,
Kevin was eighteen. And he wasn’t Mormon.
I was so much like you, Pattyn.
Full of life, full of hope.
And I fell desperately in love
with a man neither my family
nor my church would ever accept.
Intergenerational déjà vu?
My stomach churned.
I kept right on seeing him anyway.
We planned to marry, just as soon
as I graduated high school. He even
wanted me to go to college. Said any
girl as smart as I was should have a calling
other than kids. We were only kids ourselves,
of course, and like most kids that age,
our love moved way beyond kissing.
No wonder she’d hesitated
to come clean.
Ely was—and still is—a very small town.
Word got around till it reached your grandfather.
He forbade me to see Kevin, but love
was more powerful than fear. I was just
five months shy of my eighteenth birthday
when your father caught Kevin and me
parked near Burnside Lake. Stephen
pointed a .45 right between Kevin’s eyes
and ordered us to get out of the car.
The picture rolled clearly
into view.
He made us both kneel in the dirt.
The pistol swung my way. “Father sent
a message,” he said. “You are not to see
this man again, or both of you will die.”
I started to cry and Kevin reached for me.
Stephen cocked the hammer. “Don’t
touch her or I swear I’ll shoot you dead.”
Stephen was home after his first tour
in Vietnam. He’d done plenty of killing.
We had no reason to doubt he’d do more.
I didn’t doubt it either.
“What did you do?”
I begged Stephen to leave us alone. Asked
how he’d feel if Father demanded he leave
Molly. He laughed and told me to get in
his car. When I refused, he put the gun
barrel against my cheek, pulled it gently
toward my temple. “I’ll use this,” he said.
“One more would mean nothing.” A crazy
fire flickered in his eyes. I believed, then as
now, he could have killed me as easily
as he slaughtered innocent Vietnamese.
And have yet another
ghost to haunt him.
I stood and started for his car, afraid for
my life, for Kevin’s life. I heard Stephen
tell Kevin, “If you ever so much as glance
at my sister again, I will hunt you down
like a dirty coyote.” Then he brought
that .45 hard against Kevin’s jaw. Cracked
it wide open, but that wasn’t enough. Stephen
beat that man till I thought a bullet would’ve
been kinder. So now you know why Stephen
and I didn’t speak for so many years.
One piece of the puzzle.
“But what about the church?”
Stephen damn near laid Kevin in his grave.
But when Kevin tried to press charges, Sheriff
Steele claimed there wasn’t enough evidence.
See, he was also our bishop at the time. Church
law before any other, you know that. I suffered
his “court of love,” admitting as few dirty details
as they’d allow. When I turned eighteen, I did go
off to college. And I never sat through another
Sunday from hell. Kevin moved away.
I kept hoping he’d write. He never did.
I Was Stunned
I mean, I knew my dad could be
cruel, but this went way beyond
anything I’d ever witnessed.
After a few shocked moments,
I got up, went over and put my arms
around Aunt J’s neck. “I’m sorry.”
She tensed, as if she’d never been
hugged before. Then her shoulders
sagged. It was a long time ago.
I came around and sat at her feet.
So much sadness in her eyes!
Why hadn’t I noticed it before?
“Did you ever see Kevin again?”
She nodded. But by then it was too
late. I’d already married Stan.
“But you did fall in love again, didn’t
you? With Stan?” You had to fall
in love to get married. Didn’t you?
Aunt J stared toward the hills,
crimson in sunset. Real love
finds you once, if you’re lucky.
“But what about…,” I started
to say. There was so much
more I wanted to know.
Some people never find love at all,
Pattyn. Count yourself blessed
if it ever happens your way.
We Went Inside
To our separate rooms,
where the walls formed
boxes around us. And I
wondered what Aunt J
was doing, alone in her
own private cubicle.
Was she crying over
Kevin? Cursing Dad?
Had she tucked it all
back away into that
terrible space where
nightmares are born?
Closed in by plaster,
question after question
infiltrated my aching
head. What about Stan?
Hadn’t Aunt J loved
him at least a little?
How could a sheriff
swear to uphold the law
when his allegiance lay
elsewhere? How could
Grandpa Paul send Dad
on an armed mission?
Would Dad really have
pulled that trigger, killed
his sister and Kevin, just
because they were in love?
The obvious answer kept
me awake half the night
Journal Entry, June 10
I learned some terrible things
today—all about Aunt J and
her “forever love,” Kevin.
It seems my wonderful father
drove them apart. With a gun.
Maybe that shouldn’t surprise
me. But it does.
How many more miserable
things has Dad done,
things I’ll never know about
and don’t really want to?
How does he dare judge me?
I want Aunt J not to be lonely.
I want her to find another love,
but she says we only get one
real love, and only if we’re lucky.
Will I be lucky? If I am, will
someone drive him away?
Someone like Dad?
Someone
like
me?
Over the next few days.
Weird, I know, that
someone
you’ve never met could
thaw the ice damming inside,
warm
you like a summer morning,
even though he’s not yours
to hold.
I thought of Aunt J, the love
of her life dissolved into
dreams.
Did she hurt every day? Or
had she locked away all
memories
of him, condemned them
to that muddy well only
drawn from
in times of strangling
loneliness? Would I find
forever
love? Did I really want to,
when forever was a word
without meaning?
Tuesday Evening
Aunt J and
I planted ourselves on the porch
to watch the
stars poke out, twinkle by twinkle,
in the slate
blue sky.
It was a
nightly affair, and one no city
dweller
could ever take notice of, amidst
sodium and
neon lights.
Cutting
through the blossoming darkness,
headlights
appeared on the road, slowed,
turned into
the driveway.
Ethan
shimmied down from the pickup
cab, shiny
even under the muted glow of
gathering
moonlight.
Evening,
ladies. Just thought I’d drop by
on my way
home with that new pair of reins.
Came in
today.
Thank you,
Mr. Carter, said Aunt J. Sit on down
and stay
awhile. We haven’t had dessert yet.