By Kristi
"Diane Muck! Get down here for breakfast.It's getting cold."
"I'm comin', Momma," I mumbled. As I threw my cotton blankets to the floor, I stumbled to my feet.. Being too lazy to change out of my party clothes, I meandered downstairs to eat oatmeal and burnt toast. Halfway down the spiral stairway, my head pounded like a nail being hammered to my brain. My gut gurgled in rhythm like boiling water on an open flame. As a faint dizziness overcame my fragile body, I went limp.
“Diane!” my mother screamed in fear. Without another word, I blacked-out. Waking up back in my flowered bed, I noticed a note on my door. I ran to see its contents. The note read:
I am very ashamed of your summer habits. I thought you stopped your drinking and your head was finally on straight. Once again you will be late for school on your first day of your senior year! I did not cover you by calling in an excuse. If you cannot learn from this and realize what you’re doing to me and also to yourself, then you shall not live under this roof.
Call me,
Mom
“Well, that’s nice,” I yelled out. “Another day of skippin’ school.”
Ring! Ring! Ring! With a grit of my teeth, I answered the phone.
“Howdy.” (No answer) “What chu want?” I questioned. Silence. “Ello? Anybody there?”
“Is this Diane?” a masculine voice called out.
“Yea, who this be. This ain’t no advertiser is it? Cuz I’m tellin’ ya now, I don’t want none.”
“I’m sorry, Diane, but this is Mr. Flumb.”
“Mr. Who?” I chuckled.
“Mr. Flumb. I work with your mother. I was calling to inform you that my son will be arriving at your farm in approximately two hours.”
“EXCUSE me!” I exclaimed. “I don’t want no boy here at my house. Why’d he be comin’ here? Ain’t he got much better to do?”
“Please just talk to him and give him a chance. Your mother informed me you were in need of a friend and I thought this would be a great opportunity for him to meet somebody new.”
“I gotta go. I guess I’ll give this lil’ booger kid a chance. Thanx, Mr. Dumb, I mean Flumb.”
“Goodbye, dear,” he echoed.
“Yup. Later.” And with that, I slammed down the phone with all of my might. “What nerve,” I mumbled. About two hours later the doorbell rang. As I slowly marched to open the door, I realized who it was. “One sec,” I hollered. Upon opening the wooden door, which weighed about fifty pounds, my big blue eyes widened and shone like stars. I had to close my mouth so I wouldn’t drool like a Saint Bernard. A young fella stood in my doorway. Steam rolled off of this hunk like a freshly steamed vegetable. I stood there viewing his body in amazement and smirked. Then, he spoke!
“Hi there. You must be Diane. My father must have left out how pretty you are.”
“Hey, good lookin’. Save all that mushy junk. I must have missed the name.”
“I am Joseph Flumb,” he replied almost robotically.
“C’mon in, Joe!” I reassured him his presence was welcome.
“Who is this?” Joe asked pointing to my great aunt.
“That’s my aunt Dana. I got the name from her. Ain’t she pretty? She died of cancer last year.” Joe’s head shot up and his eyes widened. “You okay Joe?”
“Yea, I’m okay,” he said shakily.
Not exactly knowing what his problem was, I broke the ice. “You like ridin’?” I questioned.
“Excuse me.”
“I said, you like ridin’?” I repeated.
“I understand,” he replied, “you mean riding horses. My father told me you loved horses.”
“Yup. So ya wanna ride?”
“Well,” he began, “I’ve never actually…”
“I can teach ya,” I butted in, “I’d love the company.”
