The heat was slowly becoming unbearable in Peachtree City. James could hardly complain, however; there was running water daily despite the drought, and his house had a working fan in nearly every room. Yet, being underneath the sun just after twelve noon hit, made him feel woozy on his black bronco. It was his job, as a loyal grandson, to check the orchard fields. And what he found Wednesday afternoon was not what he expected.
His bronco, Paz, galloped into Row 367 with a huffed neigh. James looked around, waving and tipping his hat to the Peachtree City residents who were picking the ripest peaches of the season. Another gallop or two, and James was standing in between Rows 369 and 370 when he saw a damp, blue-and-white checkered blanket at the trunk of a peach tree.
There were two bodies, silently breathing with gentle heaves of the upper chests. Immediately, he stepped off Paz and the bronco galloped back obediently to the horse stables, where his brother Tom was mounting saddles.
One of the girls sleeping soundly looked no older than ten years old; her button nose was flushed, as well as her plump cheeks, and her lip was cracked and swollen. She had stringy, greasy hair; she smelled like dirty rain. He took a look at the older girl, and remembered Sunday afternoon: the girl's name had to be Scarlet, the one who asked to enter the Sunday school. Sure enough, when James pushed a lock of her raven hair away from her peaceful-looking face, he recognized the bruised lips. She, too, smelled like rain.
James didn't even know it rained last night.
He couldn't leave them there . . . and how had they gotten there to begin with? Surely someone had to see them creep into the orchards; there was watchdogs rotating shifts at every hour. Surely they had a home to go to. . . .
Beads of sweat formed by his temples; the damn heat was getting deplorable, but he managed to lift his finger to tug the blanket off the two girls' bodies. He recognized the intricate pattern, the surname 'Franco' sewed into each corner . . . it was a picnic blanket, often stored in the barn, and was knitted by his grandmother.
Furrowing his brows together impatiently, he gently shook the woman's upper arm. She winced silently, her eyelids remaining shut. He shook her arm once again. This time, however, her eyes fluttered open ever so reluctantly. She turned her head left, then right, and then hardened her expression at James.
She rose to her feet a bit unsteadily and he tried to take her hand to help her—it was a Southern hospitality sort of thing. He was being a gentleman. There were not many of them left in Peachtree City; the least he could do was help the poor girl. However, when he extended his arm, she shoved her hand behind her back.
She was, for no apparent reason, livid.
"You . . . scared me!" she hissed, glancing nervously in the direction of the young girl, whose slumber had not been distracted. "You don't . . . you don't wake a sleeping—"
"Why are you sleeping in my orchards to begin with?" James deadpanned his question with a bit of harshness, keeping his expression firm and his brows knitted together in concentration.
And yet . . . he took a longer notice at this girl, the angry woman. Despite the cracked lips, the swollen mouth . . . her features were soft, delicate . . . tender. Her eyes reminded him of the color of sky blue, of a clear summer day. But they were dead, vulnerable, and over-worn. He frowned at this thought, but before the girl could answer him, the younger girl began to stir. The older one shook the younger frantically, lifting her up to her heavy legs.
"Wait!" James called when she turned her back. "What . . . why—?"
"Please," the older girl scoffed scornfully, "don't act like you"—she emphasized on the noun, gesturing to the massive orchards, fields, barns, and estate—"of all people could care about people like us. You'll only embarrass yourselves."
When James blinked in astonishment, the two girls were already gone.
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(`bijou;by stashhjonas244 views
next one please!!!
gr8testjojofan 6 months ago
I fucking love this story, why is your writing so perfect ? ♥
keep going please
xxraindropmelody 6 months ago
I love this story. It's incredible. (:
TheNileyGirl 7 months ago
This story.. is...just.. wow.
Your writing just so amazing:)
If you ever do become an author, I will be sure to read your books:)
RemmieCullen 7 months ago
The way you're writing is so incredible. Everytime I read a chapter of one of your stories I really can imagine all that there is. Like the orchards and the way the blanket looks and all that stuff. Just amazing!!
candyAlex91 7 months ago
Hmm, did that girl really mean that? Cause i'm sure James is a lovely man who would definitely help those in need. ;)
FAILiAM 7 months ago
UhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhMAZIN.
GoofyGooberLlamas 7 months ago
I am amazed! Because you simply are amazing!
MsSoccerlover9 7 months ago
Ooh I'm liking this. James Franco<3 Mhmmm.
I'm gonna predict that Scarlet sells herself for money? Hence "whore" in the title.
moonstr127 7 months ago 2
They are poor. :O More! :D
UntilTheAngelSings 7 months ago