by
Arafinwe © 2007
Catalina had told Rowdy not to go to town unless he came back with some
fresh strawberries for her. He knew two things regarding this matter.
One, that they needed feed for the horses, and two, there would be
about as many fresh strawberries in that little dirtwater town in
January as there would be pink elephants. What to do? Finally deciding
that Catalina’s horses were not worth the punishment of returning to
the ranch without the prescribed fruit, he brushed the dusting of snow
off the seat of the old jeep, cranked it till the dying battery almost
rested in peace, and rumbled off down the icy road, slipping and
sliding like a drunken cowboy on a bar crawl, (something he had no
small experience with, by the way).
Arriving in front of the farm supply store and soon thereafter filling
the order for oats and pellet feed, he thought it couldn’t hurt to ask
the old shopkeeper if he knew where one might find some fresh
strawberries on a day like this. Rowdy tried to make it sound like a
joke just in case the shopkeeper decided to laugh, ..... which he did,
...... a lot. Piling the sacks of feed into the back of the jeep, he
headed for the little convenience store on the other side of town, it
being the only place within 50 miles that sold fresh flowers. The
strawberries had been an impossible task, he knew, but at least he
could prove that his heart was in the right place and hope for the
best. Catalina was not one to take failure lightly, and he knew his
fate might well include a lack of her passionate embraces for a week or
more, depending on her mood, but flowers might lessen the harshness of
her judgement, or so he prayed.
The old Hopi woman who ran the convenience store wasted no time telling
poor Rowdy that there would not be any flowers until her next delivery
on Wednesday. This news, coupled with the sad but immutable fact that
today was Thursday, sank his heart like a stone tossed callously into
the deepest well. Asking why the long face, the old woman learned of
the young man’s predicament, and offered the explanation of her lack of
floral wares as compensation. A lady dressed all in black had purchased
every last one of her flowers only this morning, driving out of town on
the old back road to the abandoned gold mine. No one ever went that
way, especially in winter. Rowdy in his amazement asked what sort of
vehicle this mystery woman had driven that she would brave such a
treacherous route.
“One of those new fangled things the army uses, only shiny, you know,
like on TV in the news. Chains on all four wheels, too.”
“Oh, you mean a Hummer”, said Rowdy.
“Yeah”, croaked the leathery skinned woman. “A humdinger.”
Rowdy smiled kindly and headed for the door.
“Hey, wait a minute”, she cried. “You wanted flowers for you wife,
right?”
“Girlfriend”, said Rowdy, pausing only for a split second to avoid
using the term “Mistress” in public. What a mistake THAT would have
been!
“Oh my”, she said. “Well you needn’t disappoint. I got something from
my niece this morning, but I’m allergic to ‘em, so maybe you’d like ‘em
to give to your lady friend.” She bent down to pull something out from
underneath the counter where he believed she kept the bottle of Jack
Daniels she was rumored to nurse throughout the day. Rising back up
again she soon appeared to Rowdy like a heaven sent angel tasked to
save him from certain doom, for in her gnarled old hands was a flat of
perfect, bright red, fresh strawberries!
“Mammmmm , you saved my bacon like you’ll never know!” But somehow the
naughty smile on the old woman’s face made him think she did indeed
know. Forcing her to take twenty dollars for what she wanted to give
for fee, Rowdy placed the crimson fruit tenderly on the seat next to
him and drove with as much alacrity as he dared back to the ranch,
taking both care to not damage his precious cargo and at the same time
make haste.
Catalina was waiting for him outside on the porch, a thick Indian
blanket across her shoulders as a shield against the growing cold.
There was not a cloud in the sky and the temperature would dip well
below freezing tonight. It was a good thing he had gotten the feed,
fuel to keep Catalina’s beloved horses warm for many days until the
predicted thaw next week. Telling Rowdy to feed and water the animals
and then come in and shower, she did not appear to notice the contents
of the front seat, and quickly turned to disappear behind the thick
wooden door, weathered by too much sun and a surfeit of wind.
As Rowdy finished his chores, he took the fouled straw out of the barn
in a wheelbarrow to dump in the pile out back, but then thought to drop
this load around the little new apple tree some two hundred yards
beyond. Catalina had planted it there just that spring, a sort of
offering to remember her Italian aunt by, and the mixture of hay and
dung would protect the roots as well as nourish. Slipping along the
narrow path to the young tree, his eyes fell towards the old road that
snaked down from the mountain where the old gold mine had once made a
mysterious man rich. This rough road, no more than a track really, was
the other end of that which terminated in the town where he had just
been. There at the edge of the far field, against a crumbling stone
wall, Rowdy could barely make out the silhouette in the evening light
of what looked like a Hummer.
Entering the house he was immediately told to strip and bath, don some
jeans and nothing else, and meet his Mistress in front of the
fireplace. Emerging from the bathroom Rowdy stared in amazement as he
watched Catalina gently sucking on a ripe strawberry. In his haste to
comply with her orders he had forgotten what was on the front seat of
the rusting jeep. She had found them. Or had she somehow known all
along?
“Lay down next to me, pet”, she purred, taking a fresh berry between
her equally luscious red lips.
Those trigger words dropped the young man like a shot from a buffalo
rifle, and he crumpled into a hypnotized heap beside her, staring
dazedly at her startling beauty.
“Let me feed you some of these magic strawberries”, she cooed. “They’ll
make you feel more aroused than you ever thought possible.”
With the last bit of his consciousness fading like the setting sun
outside, Rowdy stared past Catalina for a brief second into the
bedroom. The old four poster bed was covered from end to end with fresh
flowers, and he had the slightest inkling of understanding as the first
strawberry touched his lips, .... and then he sank, ..... sank into a
bliss of erotic trance wider than all the oceans of the Earth, and so
much deeper by far.
